Category: Historical Research

Local history, anarchist history, social movements

  • James Connolly, Anarchist Syndicalism and the Sligo Dock Strike

    Sligo dock workers carry sacks, from the painting “The Gang” by Jack Yeats.


    9,500 words 50 minute read.

    The 1913 lockout and strike in the port of Sligo in northwest Ireland was a labour dispute lasting 56 days from 8 March to 6 May 1913. During the strike, there were numerous clashes on the docks, riots in the town and extensive damage to property. In battles between strikers and strikebreaking labour gunshots were fired and one man was killed. Hundreds of soldiers and RIC were drafted in to deal with the unrest.

    The repercussions of this and the other major incident of that year, the Dublin Lockout, were to have a lasting effect on the future trajectory of Irish history.

    Strike!

    It began the year before in 1912, when after a short strike, the workers had succeeded in organising labour on the docks under the new ITGWU union. Walter Carpenter had come to Sligo to organise the ITGWU in 1911 and the local Union representative, John Lynch was a member of both the sailors union, the NUASF and the ITGWU.

    This union, the Irish Transport and General Workers Union (ITGWU) had been founded by James Larkin in 1909, this new type of union was successful in organising the “unskilled” and casual labourers that had not before this been represented by the craft unions. They made up the vast majority of the towns workers, and lived and worked in appalling conditions. Sligo had rates of TB double the national average, the worst in the country, which was saying something in those days. Housing was without sanitation or clean water and was in many cases exposed to run off from slaughter houses, graveyards, manure piles and tanneries.

    The main employer on the docks, Arthur Jackson, of the Sligo Steam Navigation Company, a company founded by W B Yeats grandfather William Pollexfen, was determined to break the newly organised workers.

    Jackson was a veteran union breaker, and had successfully prevented them organising since the 1880s and was determined to win this time also, so when on March 8th 1913 the seamen of the SS Sligo demanded more wages he saw his opportunity to break the new union and so, refusing their demands, proceeded to “lock them out”. Basically they were fired while the owners tried to source alternative labour.

    The Bay Pilot, The River Pilot, The Stevedore, The Ganger And The Gang” The full cast of Sligo port workers as painted by Jack B. Yeats circa 1900, Model Niland Gallery, Sligo

    The sailors were joined by deckhands and firemen. Several of the sailors were imprisoned for abandoning their posts. Now we see what Jackson was so afraid of, the sympathetic, or general strike, in which workers across industry struck in sympathy with those in other trades, this was the technique of the ITGWU.

    Hence the strike now spread to the docks as the dockers joined them also. Jackson “locked out” all the unionised workers and sent his stevedores to recruit strikebreaking labour from Liverpool, but the arrival of this “scab” labour only heightened the tensions. As they tried to break the picket line, fighting erupted and a man Patrick Dunbar was struck and killed in the fracas.

    Sligo Champion, March 1913

    The Sligo Champion reported that “things have now assumed an aspect which grossly threatens the commercial prosperity of the port and the town generally“. Quite whos prosperity was threatened it didnt say.

    By the 22nd the firms carters ceased work also, and Jackson had to send his office clerks to man the horses. More police and army were brought into the town and now rioting erupted and shops and property of several firms attacked. Shops were boycotted and all non union labour was picketted. Countess Markiewicz`s brother Jocelyn Gore Booth shut his factory in the Market Yard. That goods could not be moved to and from it, was the official story, but its likely he locked out the 80 women workers also as the employers tried to maximise the pressure on the “union-men”.

    The workers across the whole town now had to face down the hostility of the church, the police, the army, the GAA and Sinn Fein as the strike and lock-out continued into May. Perhaps surprisingly, and for reasons that will hopefully become clear later, they also had to go against the established unions which opposed the methods of the ITGWU and advocated a less radical approach.

    The stand off rumbled on, with talks seemingly getting nowhere, until quite suddenly, on May 5th, Jackson and the other employers came to terms, the most important being that the ITGWU was recognised as legitimate representation for the workers. “The Irish Transport Union has won a complete victory”, the RIC County Inspector reported to Dublin Castle.

    By January 1914

    The majority of newly elected members were put forward by the Trades Council and the local branch of the Transport Union so that the Council is now principally composed of Labour representatives”,

    Sligo Champion.


    After much bitterness, fighting and even the death of a striker, they had won. But more importantly, they had implanted socialist ideas and action into Sligo culture, something the town was to pay a heavy price for in later years when the Free State came into being, but, for now, the workers, though with a long way to go, had achieved something quite remarkable.

    This victory was regarded as a very important achievement of the ITGWU by Jim Larkin. Here was vindication that the approach of the ITGWU was correct.

    Even as the Sligo strikes were ending in favour of the workers, the biggest battle in Irish labour history was already beginning in Dublin. Connolly and Larkin and the whole union movement felt encouraged, and hoped to replicate this success in the bigger arena of Dublin.

    The Great Unrest

    Sligo`s story was part of a wave of strikes, lockouts and agitation that spread throughout the industrial societies of the world between 1910 and 1914. The era was named the Great Unrest in Britain, great because of the ferocity of the confrontation and the violence used by the state and strikers as the conflict unfolded.

    This was a different form of organised resistance than people like Arthur Jackson had encountered before in the previous century, consisting as it did in the general strike.

    In Ireland it became disparagingly known to its enemies as Larkinism, after the founder of the ITGWU, Jim Larkin. As conservative nationalists like Sinn Féin president Arthur Griffith said


    “The consequences of Larkinism are workless fathers, mourning mothers, hungry children and broken homes. Not the capitalist but the policy of Larkin has raised the price of food until the poorest in Dublin are in a state of semi-famine. The curses of women are being poured on this man’s head.” 

    Arthur Griffith

    But Larkinism was merely a euphemism to mask a worldwide movement called Syndicalism.


    ITGWU Red Hand Symbol

    ITGWU The Revolutionary Irish Syndicate

    The ITGWU was a Syndicalist inspired union (Syndicale just means union in French). Jim Larkin founded it in 1909 and James Connolly, returning from the US, was appointed as Belfast organiser in 1911. Sligo`s Branch No.5 was organised the following year.

    He set about organising the workers with mixed success during 1909. Eventually organising a sudden strike on Belfast Docks over pay. The story recounted by Connolly, and his description gives a vivid picture of the conditions in which people worked at the time.

    All day long in the suffering heat of a ship’s hold the men toil barefooted and half naked, choked with dust; while the tubs rushed up and down over their heads with such rapidity as to strain every muscle to the breaking point in the endeavour to keep them going, and with such insane recklessness as to be a perpetual menace to life and limb. Add to this inferno of industrial slavery that the men could not even retire to attend to the wants of nature unless they paid a substitute to take their place, that a visit to a WC or a drinking fountain often entailed dismissal, and that every slave-driving foreman or lick-spittle “master’s man” had a free hand to apply the spur, and the reader will have some conception of the depths of degradation to which our unfortunate Belfast brothers were reduced.

    The Port of Rouen, 1913
    Maximilien Luce, Neo-Impressionist, a group associated directly with anarchist philosophy.

    Syndicalism sought to organise all workers into federated unions or into “one big union”. Often referred to also as Industrial Unionism, the term Connolly preferred, and which accurately describes its organisation based on industry as a whole.

    Unlike the earlier craft and trade unions it included so called “unskilled” workers, general labourers and those on piece and day work, and used the method of the general strike to achieve its aims. Connolly said that the Industrial and craft union are mutually exclusive terms, emphasising this as a new development in the social movements of the time.

    The ITGWU rapidly won 20-25% increases in the wages of its workers, a success that caused consternation amongst the employers. But these improvements were to be stepping stones on a radical program reorganising society itself from top to bottom, or bottom to top, more accurately.

    The Irish Transport and General Workers’ Union is in the vanguard of that Irish branch of the Army of Labour, and we are honoured when we carry its banner. 

    His strike in Belfast resulted in better pay and conditions for the workers. The organisation, knowledge and small victories spread.

    But it was not to last, within a few short years of its greatest successes Syndicalism was to be eclipsed by other forces and the countervailing philosophies of nationalism, authoritarian Marxism, the conservative crackdowns of the state and the convulsions unleashed by the outbreak of World War One.


    Many since have criticised the actions of these times. That either the approach was wrong, that they were not political enough, too idealistic, or too naive, and many other judgements.

    Our point of view more than a century after these events cannot help but be coloured by our knowledge of what happened since.

    But we must strip away this knowledge of the future to get a glimpse of the “climate of ideas” within which people lived at that time. The difficulty, in any age, is that action in the present moment is always uncertain, and people must make their best guess of the right course in the moment, and always with imperfect information.

    We can have some appreciation of the odds that were against them in these battles, the bravery that it took to fight for rights that seemed unattainable. We also see that despite the obvious setbacks, they often achieved more than they realised at the time.

    To understand the intentions and beliefs of Connolly, Larkin and Mann and the thousands of people who believed in their vision, joined them and fought with them, often putting their lives on the line for the vision of a new society, we need to understand the background to Syndicalist unionism, and why it was regarded as such a threat to the establishment.

    A 1912 Irish Independent cartoon of a worker so blinded by Syndicalism he ignores work and food.

    Utopia to Anarchy

    Syndicalism was born out of the socialist movements, but socialism means different things at different times, so we must ask what was its dominant currents at this time? The period roughly leading up to the First World War.

    Mention socialism now in 2022, and the image is generally that of Classical Marxism and Communism. familiar from the regimes of Russia, China and Cuba and many others in the 20th century. The source of the “Red Scares” and other fears of the “commies” so prevalent during the Cold War. This has come to define socialism, certainly in the American mind, and popularly elsewhere. But Marxism is not the source of Syndicalist beliefs.

    Instead, Syndicalism had developed from Libertarian Socialism, a branch of thought that predated Marx, and while accepting of Marxs titanic economic analysis of capitalism, was most fervently opposed to the political ideas of Karl Marx, Syndicalism had in fact grown out of the ideas of the other great stream of socialist philosophy, the Libertarian, or Utopian Socialists.

    The Utopian Socialists

    Socialism took its modern form as a doctrine in the 19th century as one of a number of responses to the rapid rise of industrial societies and the huge problems of excess poverty and wealth this created in human societies.

    The great immiseration of huge numbers of people and the enormous wealth of a few, as well as slavery, the desperate working conditions of the new heavy industries, the lack of rights of women and cruelty to animals all provided graphic demonstration of increasing injustice despite the supposed “progress” of mankind during the 18th century.

    Increasingly it became obvious that the often ancient institutions of the state itself stood in the way of progress and protected the privileges of the few against the many, often with vicious force and lethal consequences.

    The rediscovery in the 17th century of the Ancient Greek atomic theory of Epicurus and Democritus had sparked a revolution in science by stopping the fruitless attempts to transform base metals to gold. With the adoption of the atomic theory of nature, a physics, the leaps forward were astonishing. Surely, some thought, the same method could be applied to human social systems? After all, werent humans also the product of nature? Well, the Church of course disagreed, and here we have the first split between the new scientific rationalism and the older social systems inherited from the Middle Ages, the Age of Kings and feudal lords.

    Rationalism gave rise to economics as the attempt to make a science of wealth and money, and to strip away the feudal privileges that enforced inequality on the masses. From Adam Smith to Marx the natural laws underlying markets, money and the generation of wealth were studied.

    But what of the moral implications of this new knowledge? Why pursue it if only the few were to benefit? And if only the few benefitted, surely at some point inequality would become so great the many would overthrow the few, and what would come after that?. Nobody knew.

    Well, as with Atomism, perhaps the Greeks had an answer also for this? Epicurus, writing in the 4th century BC, in his ethics laid out a scientific approach to judging human behaviour, motivation and the criteria for what is moral. This surely could be a starting point for a science of human society.

    He taught that as living beings, we can judge right and wrong only by our senses. What is pleasurable is the greatest good and what is painful is evil. The subtlety was he defined “pleasure” as simply the absence of suffering. and taught that all humans should seek to attain ataraxia, meaning “untroubledness”, a state in which the person is completely free from all pain or suffering. This approach was called Hedonism. But they called it Utilitarianism at the time to mask its pagan origins.

    Here was something they could work with, Using Epicurus` Hedonism (Utilitarianism) as a measure of morality, philosophers such as William Godwin and Jeremy Bentham began to measure the utility of laws and actions based on whether they increased pleasure or pain.

    Bentham applied the idea to society rather than the individual, and came up with his “fundamental axiom”, the principle that “it is the greatest happiness of the greatest number that is the measure of right and wrong. Here then was a moral motive, a target to aim for, and a way to measure the rights and wrongs of all questions of social and political policy and law. Now laws could be questioned, do they increase the happiness of the greatest number of people? Or only the few? Well, clearly, much of the law inherited from the medieval state was not exactly sympathetic to the majority, to put it mildly, and so they set to work to design a better, more rational, more scientific, and more just society.

    William Godwin (he was father of Mary Shelley of Frankensteins fame incidentally) provided a critique of government in what is regarded as the first anarchist text in 1793 with his “Enquiry Concerning Political Justice and its Influence on Morals and Happiness” in this he laid out his 8 principles, three of which for example are

    The object of moral and political discourse is how to maximize the amount and variety of pleasure and happiness.

    Reason’s clarity and strength depend on the cultivation of knowledge. The cultivation of knowledge is unlimited. Therefore, our social condition is capable of perpetual improvement; however, institutions calculated to give perpetuity to any particular mode of thinking, or condition of existence, are harmful.

    The cultivation of happiness requires that we avoid prejudice and protect freedom of enquiry. It also requires leisure for intellectual cultivation, therefore extreme inequality is to be avoided.

    William Godwin, 1793

    Here is clearly the Utilitarian method of analysing society in full view, measuring everything against happiness. The idea of more equal distribution of wealth and power as necessary to increase happiness became a corner stone of the developing movement and led to the first co-operatives and unions.

    By the 1820s wealthy mill owners such as the Welshman Robert Owen were supporting “co-operative villages”. HIs practical implementation of the Utilitarains concepts was to be a turning point, bringing the ideas from the few philosophers to becoming a true mass movement. The three elements that emerged were the co-operative enterprise, the trade union, and the labour exchange. Many experiments were tried at this time, including at Ralahine Commune in County Clare, but the earliest and most famous was at New Lanark near Glasgow.

    He and Bentham funded the New Lanark co-operative. This community of 2500 lived and worked around a mill, and Owen set out to apply the Utilitarian ideas to these peoples lives. Here the first infant school in Britain was opened in 1817, He limited the hours people worked and ensured a clean environment, and as he improved the conditions the mill became famous with dignitaries from all over Europe visiting to see this experiment. Not so impressed were his business partners who complained of the extra expenses his improvements cost. He bought them out.

    Owen proved, much to the astonishment of his visitors, that a business could be profitable and treat its workers well. A novel concept indeed. Owens approach was referred to as Owenism, his followers as Owenites. But soon, there was another word used that better explained their aim of a better society, socialists.

    However, Owen was no theorist, and there were indeed several issues with his approach. His appeal was to the rich who he felt could be persuaded to accept less profits. He did not think that the poor themselves could organise or that they should challenge the systems that kept them oppressed. He advocated that the ruling class would be the ones to change society, from the top down. Naturally, he was popular with this part of society, and was lauded by them on a speaking tour of Ireland during the Famine, something that was noted by his critics.

    The flaws in Owens approach were pointed out by a member of Irelands Protestant Ascendancy, a landlord himself, but a most unusual philosopher of Utilitarianism. William Thompson of Cork was influential in his analysis of economics and an early advocate of full rights for women, something that not all socialists, not least Marx, could get to grips with in the 19th century.

    William Thompson 1830

    But Thompson went much further than this. He recognised that it wasn`t in the interests of the capitalist owners to truly bring about a new society.

    “As long as the accumulated capital of society remains in one set of hands, and the productive power of creating wealth remains in another, the accumulated capital will, while the nature of man continues as at present, be made use of to counter-act the natural laws of distribution, and to deprive the producers of the use of what their labour has produced.” he said. Further, he said that As long as a class of mere capitalists exists, society must remain in a diseased state. Whatever plunder is saved from the hand of political power will be levied in another way, under the name of profit, by capitalists who, while capitalists, must be always law- makers.”

    He laid out the corrupting influence of excessive wealth as reason enough in itself to distribute wealth more evenly throughout society.

    He therefore said that the capitalist society should be replaced by a co-operative socialism, but that this could only be brought about by the workers themselves.

    Thompson introduced from France the idea of industrial organisation as necessary to this project, and he recognised the trade unions as “by far the most important movement” of his time. In his 1827 book, Labour Rewarded, he therefore argued that the trade union movement should not restrict itself to wage negotiations and should should be at the forefront of setting up the co-operative movement. He also criticised trade unions that excluded unskilled workers.

    Factory by Moonlight, 1898
    Maximilen Luce

    The majority of the early socialists believed that either reform or that the building of the co-operatives would lead to the new society.

    But as Thompson had pointed out, those who owned the capital also made the laws, and they by and large were not interested in a more even distribution of resources in society, which would obviously reduce their profits, at least in the short term.

    Faced with this resistance to change from the establishment many came to increasingly believe that a revolution was required to really change society. But how this was to be achieved is the recurring issue.

    The fundamental disagreement was simple. Should change come from the top down through the already existing power structure, the state and its ruling class? Or should change come from the bottom up, from the workers and poor themselves building a new society within the shell of the old and eventually replacing it.

    The disagreements between Thompson and Owen were of this nature and were to continue with the development of a more revolutionary socialism as the 19th century wore on. Here, impatient at resistance, resort to confrontation and violence if necessary was increasingly seen as legitimate ways to force social change.



    Portrait of Pierre Joseph Proudhon (1809-65) 1865 (oil on canvas) by Gustave Courbet

    Proudhon

    Around 1829 at the same time as Thompson was writing in Cork, a man arrived in the shop of a young printer in France named Pierre Joseph Proudhon. This man, named Fourier, was looking to get his latest book printed Le Nouveau Monde Industriel et Sociétaire. Fourier was a libertarian socialist and philosopher like many of his generation that Marx would dismiss as Utopians. Fourier’s concern was to liberate every human individual, man, woman, and child, in two senses: education and the liberation of human passion.

    Proudhon was influenced by Fourier to pursue philosophy. He published his first work, What is Property? in 1840. Then A Warning to Proprieters, a book for which he was put on trial, but then acquitted as the jury would not condemn someone for a philosophy it could not understand. In 1848 Proudhon wrote the System of Economic Contradictions, or the Philosophy of Poverty.

    In this book Proudhon wrote of the relation of the individual to the state, and formalised what early philosophers had pointed at but not explicitly followed though on. The states monopoly on violence meant that it effectively blocked any attempts to create a fairer society.

    Proudhon rejected all political action, and argued that workers could achieve a better system through economic action alone; He advocated abstention from politics, as the real aim of socialism must be the ultimate eradication of the state. Proudhon was the first of the new socialists to call himself an anarchist.

    The response was immediate, and from an unlikely quarter, a young German writer who had initially sought to collaborate with Proudhon, but now launched a scathing attack on Proudhons book, releasing a response termed “The Poverty of Philosophy”.

    Karl Marx, background was very differnet to Proudhon, who incidentally his doctoral thesis On the Difference between Democritean and Epicurean Philosophy of Nature.

    It was Marx who first disparagingly referred to the early socialists as Utopian Socialists, to contrast their approach also with his materialist philosophy, a “scientific” socialism.

    But, as we have seen, from the beginning, socialism itself was born out of the philosophy of science, and specifically out of the very Ancient Greek materialism that Marx himself studied in university. Why was he so keen to be seen as different to those who went before?

    Marx was combative, falling out with Proudhon when the latter kept his distance and refused to castigate a mutual friend that Marx had fallen out with. Marx immediately began a vendetta against Proudhon, claiming he was afraid Proudhon would “mislead the masses”, although it seems more likely he was concerned Proudhon would eclipse Marx in the socialist movement that Marx desperately wanted. Marx spared nothing in his vitriol, writing an entire book not just to refute Proudhon, but to destroy his character and bury his ideas.

    He claimed he was incapable of abstract thought, didn’t understand philosophy or economics, was an idealist, that altering the social system without first destroying it was impossible, that he did not comprehend the historical process and that his individualism was abhorrent.

    In contrast, Proudhon never really responded publicly to Marx attacks and provocations, though privately he did refer in his diary to Marx as “the tapeworm of socialism”. Overall Marx`s attacks did not have the intended effect until many decades later.

    Proudhon did not believe in the necessity of revolution for social change and thought change could be accomplished without resorting to force. Proudhon, thinking of historical revolutions within his lifetime in France of 1789-99 and 1830, and in 1848, was very wary of promoting it as a method of change, believing revolution often became perverted into a travesty of its intended form.

    A truly successful revolution, he thought, would come from evolutionary transformation of the morals and philosophy of mankind.

    Proudhon rejected all political action as a form of class collaboration arguing that the working class through economic action alone; abstention from politics was advocated with a view to the ultimate eradication of the existing state and its political apparatus.

    Here was the basic tenets of anarchist thought and the syndicalism that developed from it. The turning away from politics and emphasis on economic action put the unions at the forefront of the strategy for change. It also amounted to a strategy of boycott of the existing system by refusing to engage in it by the organisation of political parties.

    Here again, like in the previous generation, the conflict was between the advocates of top down change and those that advocated it from the bottom up.

    The next stage of socialism emerged from the First International Working Mans Association, the first international gathering of mutualists, socialists, trade unionists, communists with a view to creating a mass movement in 1864. This association sought to unite the various social reform and revolutionary movements of the time, it resulted in a split between the two different main approaches to achieving progress.

    While the tendency was to become more revolutionary rather than reformist. Marx and his dogmatic and deterministic philosophy had quickly come to dominate the International.

    Bakunin

    In 1872, a crisis erupted at a meeting of the International in the Hague which split it into two broad factions, one that coalesced around the economist Karl Marx, and that which formed around the chief anarchist theorist, the Russian Mikhail Bakunin.

    The Marxists advocated the political approach, believing the way forward was through politics and the state, the so called “state socialists” or Marxists. Marx and his faction therefore did not emphasise the role of trade unions, instead aiming to take over the state politically and create a “Dictatorship of the Proletariat” in which a workers party, would re-organise society from the top down.

    They advocated, in the words of Trotsky later “authoritarian leadership, centralised distribution of the labour force, the Workers State as preeminent power” and the vanguard Communist Party as sole arbiter of the revolution.

    Marxism was to become the dominant form of socialism after the Russian Revolution in 1917, and therefore the most well known to us to this day. But in the time period we are looking at these events lay in the future,

    Mikhail Bakunin

    The Libertarian Socialists formed the largest group in the First International. They were descended from the early ideas of Bentham, Godwin and Owen and and through Proudhon and Bakunin they mutual and the collectives an co operatives and credit unions.

    It was this form of socialism that was dominant reaching its zenith from the 1890s until about 1925. Its revolutionary current of Anarchism, and its practical offshoot, Syndicalism were to be the defining revolutionary movements of the first decade of the 20th century.

    The militant anarchists developed the philosophy of “propaganda by the deed”. Assassinations and other acts were used to discredit the entire philosophy

    Anarchism

    Anarchism, from Ancient Greek Anarkhos, meaning “without a ruler” simply the “no-government form of socialism” or more formally defined in the Oxford dictionary as “belief in the abolition of all government and the organization of society on a voluntary, cooperative basis without force or compulsion.”

    The Anarchists objected to political organisation of the workers as counterproductive. As Kropotkin, a major anarchist theorist put it,

    “the state, having been the force to which the minorities resorted for establishing and organising their power over the masses, cannot be the force which will serve to destroy those privileges”.

    The anarchists believed the state could never create a more fair society, but was the very source of the unfairness they sought to abolish.

    Kropotkin, who after Bakunins death became the most influential anarchist philosopher also objected to Marx`s claims to have discovered historical “laws”, saying they were “political and social astrology and of no more predictive power than “the claims of those wise women who pretend to be able to read the destinies of man in teacups or in the lines of the hand.”

    Liberty, Bakunin said, required social and economic equality, and that “the people will feel no better if the stick with which they are being beaten is labelled the “peoples stick”.

    Its worth looking at Bakunins own words on why he opposed Marx`s political approach, and what the anarchists stood for. This excerpt is from his influential book Statism and Anarchy.

    In accordance with this belief, we neither intend nor desire to thrust upon our own or any other people any scheme of social organization taken from books or concocted by ourselves.

    We are convinced that the masses of the people carry in themselves, in their instincts (more or less developed by history), in their daily necessities, and. in their conscious or unconscious aspirations, all the elements of the future social organization.

    We seek this ideal in the people themselves. Every state power, every government, by its very nature places itself outside and over the people and inevitably subordinates them to an organization and to aims which are foreign to and opposed to the real needs and aspirations of the people.

    We declare ourselves the enemies of every government and every state power, and of governmental organization in general. We think that people can be free and happy only when organized from the bottom up in completely free and independent associations, without governmental paternalism though not without the influence of a variety of free individuals and parties.

    Such are our ideas as social revolutionaries, and we are therefore called anarchists. We do not protest this name, for we are indeed the enemies of any governmental power, since we know that such a power depraves those who wear its mantle equally with those who are forced to submit to it.

    Under its pernicious influence the former become ambitious and greedy despots, exploiters of society in favour of their personal or class interests, while the latter become slaves.

    Bakunin

    So the Marxists sought to create a new society from the top down, the anarchists from the bottom up. There was to be no meeting in the middle.

    The crisis came to a head in 1871 when in a meeting in London, Marx had inserted, in response to the defeat of the revolutionary Paris Commune, a resolution on the necessity of a workers political party as the means to a socialist revolution.

    “That this constitution of the working class into a political party is indispensable in order to ensure the triumph of the social revolution and its ultimate end — the abolition of classes.”

    Karl Marx 1871 – Resolution No. 9

    This resolution, along with the other fundamental differences, caused an immediate negative reaction amongst the majority of the International.

    At the next meeting in 1872 in Holland, Bakunin, who could not make it, was expelled in absentia by Marxs faction who had gained control of the General Council. With the split now official, both sides claimed (and still claim) to be the true descendants of the First International, but from then on went their separate ways.

    From then on the anarchists and Marxists, pursued fundamentally different approaches to socialist revolution. Marx`s influence was strong in Germany and England, the anarchists in Switzerland, France, Italy and Spain. But in general until WWI the libertarian socialists were the largest grouping in socialism.

    Cover by Man Ray, The Two Headed Cerberus of Capitalism & Government tears humanity in its jaws.
    Mother Earth Anarchist Magazine 1914

    The anarchists, in keeping with the “bottom up” method of organisation, inherited the idea the trade unions as instruments of change from the earliest days of the Utopian socialists and William Thompson.

    So it was from the conjunction of anarchism and the unions that the next development of the means of wresting change was perfected.

    Syndicalism

    A member of the First International, Lois-Eugene Varlin, a Parisian bookbinder had included in the statutes of his bookbinding union he had founded in 1857 that it should be dedicated

    to the constant improvement of the conditions of existence of the workers of all professions and all countries, and to [bringing] workers into possession of the instruments of their labour

    On November 14, 1869, Varlin helped found the Parisian Federation of Workers’ Associations, a confederation of trade unions that became the nucleus of the General Confederation of Labour (CGT), the main organisation of the French syndicalist movement.

    Varlin had led his union into the First International, where he had taken the side of the Proudhonists with Bakunin and ended up joining the Paris Commune insurrection for which he was shot in 1871. About 20,000 of the Communards as they were known were massacred by the state during the insurrection. This drove the nascent Syndicalist movement underground for a while, but also led to he radicalisation of socialism in general, as the argument of peaceful evolution seemed unrealistic with such levels of state violence. But his work lived on in the Confederated unions that spread throughout France in the last few decades of the 19th century.


    The Execution of Varlin, 1914
    Maximilien Luce

    Between 1895 and 1910 Syndicalist unions, such as the CGT in France, spread rapidly throughout the industrialised world, being particularly in Spain, Italy and France.

    But the aims and philosophy of the Syndicalists went much further than demands for better conditions or higher wages, although these were fought for and won at the time.

    The Syndicalists envisioned a world after capitalism, a federation of democratic assemblies with the factories and workshops owned by the workers. Borders between nations would be dissolved, and democratic cooperatives would share the fruits of labour to each according to need. Utopian sounding (it would be) perhaps, but Syndicalism represented the practical plan to get there.

    The federated unions were to provide the nucleus of this new way of organising an advanced industrial society. To achieve their aims the Syndicalists sought to unite all workers across society and internationally so they would strike in sympathy with each other, eventually resulting in a universal general strike which would bring about the replacement of the centralised state with a new socialist organisation of society.

    In other words, Syndicalism aimed at the dissolution of the centralised state and the transference of ownership of industry to the workers, a full revolutionary socialist program. But what made it dangerous was, it knew how to go about it.

    The outcome was to be achieved incrementally, step by step as workers educated themselves and became aware of what their unified strength was capable of. The first step of course, was recognition by employers of the right of workers to organise and be represented by their unions. Next, were demands for better pay and conditions, for example the 8 hour work day was campaigned for and won at this time.

    in the 1880s the Eight Hour League was formed by a socialist named Tom Mann in the British Social Democratic Federation (SDF), a union that included William Morris and James Connolly amongst its members. Mann and Connolly met in the 1890s and kept in touch.

    A Tom Mann leaflet published in 1910 by The Industrial Syndicalist Monthly. Vol. l no. l. that belonged to James Connolly, sold at auction.

    In 1910 Mann travelled to France where the largest syndicalist union existed, the CGT (General Confederation of Labour) and returned convinced that their doctrine was the right approach. Mann founded the International Syndicalist Education League(ISEL) to educate people on the philosophy and methods of the movement.

    He also started publishing The Industrial Syndicalist that year and reached out to other union leaders to join his new group, one of which was named James Larkin. By 1910 both men were committed Syndicalists.

    Meanwhile, Connolly had been in the US since 1903, where, on a similar trajectory from party based socialism to syndicalism he had ended up as one of the founders of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW). The major Industrial Union of the United States founded in 1905.

    “There is on foot a great world Movement, aiming definitely and determinedly at the economic emancipation of the workers.”

    Thomas Mann

    Another Tom Mann pamphlet printed in 1910 was titled confidently “The Way to Win”. Whether in Sligo or Liverpool, or the hundreds of other workplace disputes erupting at the time, Syndicalism had started to bring success against the owners of industry and the state that supported them.

    Increasingly, the future that workers had fought for seemed to be within reach, if only they could hold their nerve and apply themselves to growing the movement.

    • A preference for federalism over centralism.
    • Opposition to political parties.
    • Seeing the general strike as the supreme revolutionary weapon.
    • Favouring the replacement of the state by “a federal, economic organisation of society”.
    • Seeing unions as the basic building blocks of a post-capitalist society.

    Syndicalism was the practical method of achieving change without putting political action at the forefront, developed out of the philosophy of the libertarian socialists and anarchists from the very beginning of socialism in the late 18th century.

    It was this form of socialist philosophy that dominated the early years of the 20th century, a time later known as the Golden Age of Anarchism and Syndicalism.

    In Ireland, a land in which neither the industrial revolution nor the Enlightenment had seemingly had much impact, the ancient struggle of its people to be free of subjection by the British Empire was about to be changed forever. James Connolly had returned to Ireland, this time not as a young British soldier, but as a man who had developed his own analysis of Irish history and society and most importantly, he believed he knew how to change it.

    James Connolly

    James Connolly, New York

    James Connolly, born in Edinburgh in 1868 in an Irish emigrant slum called “Little Ireland”. Like his older brother, joined the army at 14 to escape poverty.

    He served, as far as can be ascertained, in the 1st Battalion, King’s Liverpool Regiment arriving in Cork in 1882. Connolly mentions being on guard duty when Myles Joyce (Maolra Seoighe)* was hung on the 15th December 1882 in the infamous Maamtrasna murder case in which three men were sentenced to death on flimsy evidence and notoriously tried in English despite them speaking only Irish.

    So from the moment he arrived the Land War was in full swing, a situation that undoubtedly had a major effect on him. The regiment was involved in evictions, in riots in Belfast and eventually was stationed in Dublin where it ( very interestingly considering Connollys later 1916 role) took part in exercises simulating an insurrection in the city.

    By the 1890s Connolly was demobbed, back in Scotland, and his career as a socialist organiser had begun. He took over as secretary of the Scottish Socialist Federation after his brother John was fired after making a speech in favour of the 8 hour day. He was a prolific organiser and founder of papers and pamphlets. And because of this, he was offered and accepted the job as organiser of the Dublin Socialist Club. Now, by this stage his ideas on both socialism and the need for Ireland to separate from the empire were well developed. In order to consciously link the two, he created the IRSP ( Irish Republican Socialist Party).


    Now, to stand back and see where we are, much has been written on the ideas of Connolly, and it`s impossible to do justice to the scholarship of a century in this glance at history. But it is the case that in the main, analysis of Connollys philosophy has been through the lens of either nationalism, whether republican or otherwise and/or through socialist historians. And of the socialist commentaries, they are overwhelmingly of an authoritarian Marxist point of view, this being the dominant form of socialist thought in Britain and Ireland in the later half of the 20th century. This has led to some confusion in the analysis of Connollys beliefs.

    It has been claimed for example, that he was purely a revolutionary Marxist, but that his ideas were vague on how to achieve that revolution. That he wavered in beliefs, flirting briefly with syndicalism, but then taking a turn to nationalism and the Rising. Both Connolly and Larkin have been criticised for neglecting to focus on a revolutionary party, for being too focused on unions. They have been regarded as naive in not understanding the necessity of a political focus to take over the state in the vent of revolution, and so on.

    What many of the criticisms have in common is a certain mapping of concepts that would in fact come later, like Bolshevism, Leninism, Trotskyism onto Connolly and his time. Marxism is the wrong lens through which to analyse Connolly, Larkin and the Ierish labour movement.

    But, if we simply follow the thread as we have laid it out in this essay, I think it shows that Connolly is in fact consistent throughout his career.

    The key is to understand that Connolly was fundamentally a Libertarian Socialist, who understood and accepted Marx`s economic analysis, but who was not dogmatic in his interpretation of Marx. He therefore consistently followed the line of the libertarian and anarchist socialists in advocating the primacy of building a new system from the bottom up.

    He referred to himself as both a socialist, and as an Industrial Unionist (Syndicalism), and Syndicalist principles run consistently through all of Connollys writings. From the 1890s, the Syndicalists had been influenced more and more by anarchists as they abandoned the tactic of “propaganda by the deed”, violent assassinations and the like that had generally backfired.

    The syndicalists were placed in direct opposition to the Marxist program of nationalization of industry, electoral activity, and the centralization of both the First International and the state. And in each case Connolly is perfectly aligned with the Syndicalists.


    What we can chart is a growing sense of the need to overthrow the capitalist system directly, and a growing confidence in how to do that. If anything his thought moves along a trajectory from the political party to that of an almost out and out rejection of politics as a realistic method of change, and eventually culminating in the armed revolt of 1916.

    So, as early as 1898 we see him argue on the subject of nationalisation of industries such as telephones, railways and canals he points out that

    we would, without undue desire to carp or cavil, point out that to call such demands ‘Socialistic’ is in the highest degree misleading. Socialism properly implies above all things the co-operative control by the workers of the machinery of production; without this co-operative control the public ownership by the State is not Socialism – it is only State capitalism.

    This is the position first taken by Bakunin in the First international and one of the core criticisms of Marx`s statism by the anarchists at this time.

    In 1903 Connolly went to America where he was to take up a job with SLP (Socialist Labour Party) run by Daniel De Leon. De Leon had been a believer in state socialism, (Lenin later commented that the Bolsheviks had adapted De Leons idea of Marxism). De Leon had begun to be interested in the new Industrial Unionism especially pioneered by the miners of the western United States. In 1905 Connolly and De Leon were part of the foundation of the IWW. 

    The IWW used the slogan One Big Union to unite all industrial workers throughout sectors and across the world, and the General Strike as the weapon of choice to effect change. Although it claimed to be uniquely American, the IWW was (and is) a classic Syndicalist Union with ties to socialist and anarchist movements in particular.

    It was not long before there was conflict between Connolly and De Leon, which became publicly fought out in published letters.

    They differed on issues of womens rights, and on religion, but the core of the argument revolved around an argument on the “Iron law of Wages” which basically said that every wage increase won would be cancelled straightaway by a rise in prices.

    This was anathema to Connolly as it threatened the basis of unions as the key to the reorganisation of society. “The theory that a rise in prices always destroys the value of a rise in wages sound very revolutionary, of course, but it is not true. And, furthermore, it is no part of our doctrine. If it .were it knocks the feet from under the S.T. & L.A” The ST & LA was a general union, and here Connollys concern is that such a position would undermine the primacy of the unions in the socialist movement.

    The argument eventually split the IWW with De Leon setting up his own faction in Chicago. 

    Again the argument was the always repeating one that divided the Marxists and anarchists in First International. What is of note here is that Connolly, again, sided with the anarchists on the issue of union primacy in the socialist struggle.

    In his pamphlet Socialism Made Easy, written in 1908 while he was in America, Connolly quoted the following from an American campaigner A M Stirton

    There is not a socialist in the world today who can indicate with any degree of clearness how we can bring about the co-operative commonwealth except along the lines suggested by industrial organization of the workers. Political institutions are not adapted to the administration of industry.

    Only industrial organizations are adapted to the administration of a co-operative commonwealth that we are working for. Only the industrial form of organization offers us even a theoretical constructive socialist program. There is no constructive socialism except in the industrial field.

    About the above quote Connolly writes that this

    so well embodies my ideas upon this matter that I have thought well to take them as a text for an article in explanation of the structural form of Socialist Society

    Connollys years in America were formative, and from his above commentary we can see he had a clear vision of the society he was aiming for and the method for how to bring it about. This vision is that of the federated unions as forming the nucleus of the post revolution society. Indeed the anarchists referred to this future organisation as The Federation. The founders of Spanish anarchism for example claimed that the labour organisations would replace the state and that, the Federation would rule”

    They saw the industrial unions as the both the training ground and as the new system itself being built within the shell of the old, until such time as it replaced it. Connolly is clear that the old style politics cannot achieve this, and cannot be the way that the new society is organised. In this again he is in accord with the anarchist conception. In Socialism Made Easy he wrote,

    Under Socialism states, territories or provinces will exist only as geographical expressions, and have no existence as sources of governmental power, though they may be seats of administrative bodies.”

    IWW poster from 1912

    By marrying anarchist philosophy to the grassroots organisation of the industrial unions Syndicalism created a sophisticated social force, one with more power than either would have on its own. Connolly understood this perfectly well.

    “Here we have a practical illustration of the power of Socialism when it rests upon an economic Organization, and the effectiveness and far-reaching activity of unionism when it is inspired by the Socialist ideal.”

    Ireland

    In Ireland, there were added problems. Connolly had to work out how to sell his vision in a country which had taken a different trajectory to most of western Europe. To do this he had to find parallels to Irish experience.

    Ireland had, under the yoke of colonialism, by and large missed out on the Industrial Revolution. Most of the country had remained rural and was under absentee landlords. Except in the port towns, there was no “working class” in the industrial sense that Marx had written about.

    Here his experience of the Land War enabled him to explain the General Strike as being essentially the same concept as the Boycott perfected in Mayo during the Land War. This was something the Irish could understand, and that could be applied both rurally and in the towns.

    Next, in terms of the core Syndicalist idea of federated unions organised confederations of industries he linked to the re-emerging knowledge of Gaelic Irelands decentralised and democratic political organisation. Indeed, many Irish still lived naturally, albeit unrecognised officially, in this same way, in federated tribes or clans with elected leaders. After discussing the Gaelic organisation of society and common ownership of land Connolly writes,

    The Irish System was thus on a par with those conceptions of social rights and duties which we find the ruling classes today denouncing so fiercely as ‘Socialistic’.

    It was apparently inspired by the democratic principle that property was intended to serve the people, and not by the principle so universally acted upon at present, viz., that the people have no other function in existing than to be the bondslaves of those who by force or by fraud have managed to possess themselves of property.

    In these instances it was the ideas of the anarchists that most closely matched the political and historical conditions in Ireland, Whether Connolly chose them because he knew this, its impossible to tell, but as he adapted them or chose those best suited to Irish history and understanding. He was nonetheless effective in welding the ancient reason for Irelands resistance to English domination to a forward looking social vision, and he did this by recognising that even the ancient conflict had revolved around fundamentally different concepts of property.

    It is clear, when looked at this way, that there is really no conflict between Connollys socialism and the Gaelic revival, and the idea there is, only arises later through misunderstanding.

    It is worth quoting at length Connollys outline of his vision from Labour in Irish History in 1910.

    Add to this the concept of One Big Union embracing all, and you have not only the outline of the most effective form of combination for industrial warfare to-day, but also for Social Administration of the Co-operative Commonwealth of the future.

    A system of society in which the workshops, factories, docks, railways, shipyards, &c., shall be owned by the nation, but administered by the Industrial Unions of the respective industries, organised as above, seems best calculated to secure the highest form of industrial efficiency, combined with the greatest amount of individual freedom from state despotism. Such a system would, we believe, realise for Ireland the most radiant hopes of all her heroes and martyrs.”

    Connolly advocated a federally organised state and recognised that the old Gaelic organisation of Ireland which had existed until the 17th century was stateless and consisted of federated territories called tuatha, organised into confederate groups. What unified them was adherence to a universal code of law.

    Connolly, therefore was a Syndicalist in both belief and action, a position that put him quite firmly within the libertarian anarchist tradition of the First International. In this sense his ideas cannot be understood without reference to the thinkers of this tradition, from the early Utopians all the way to Bakunin and Kropotkin. Connolly of course was also someone who had fully imbibed and understood Marxs importance, but the anarchists had also accepted in large part Marxs economic arguments without reservation. Where they differed with Marx was in the means of achieving the socialist project, and in this Connolly was identical to them.

    This leads me to the last axiom of which I wish you to grasp the significance. It is this, that the fight for the conquest of the political state is not the battle, it is only the echo of the battle.

    The real battle is the battle being fought out every day for the power to control industry and the gauge of the progress of that battle is not to be found in the number of voters making a cross beneath the symbol of a political party, but in the number of these workers who enrol themselves in an industrial organization with the definite purpose of making themselves masters of the industrial equipment of society in general.

    And understanding the idea that change came only from the bottom up, that political engagement was not the first line of the battle, but only the echo of the battle, it becomes less difficult to understand his supposed turn to armed insurrection in 1916, he was merely staying true to the same principles he had all along, and kept right up to 1916.

    Contemporaries must have recognised this as in 1916 the Dublin Chamber of Commerce was to claim that the Rising was a revival of 1913 activism. They weren’t exactly wrong.


    Creative Commons Licence

    This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

    Postscript

    The Sligo strikers won recognition of their union in 1913, but in 2022 Under Irish law there is no obligation on employers to recognise trade unions and there are no plans to bring forward legislation to provide for mandatory trade union recognition.

    The events of 1913 Sligo Dock Strike and subsequent Dublin Lockout were the high point of the Irelands Syndicalist revolt. Subsequently, the character of events was to take a different turn, with the outbreak of war in 1914 changing the character of societies permanently.

    In general, the war itself and the events following were in many senses a counter-reaction to the advance of radical socialism, and the very real gains it was making for the mass of people who toiled in the awful conditions of the 19th century. With Syndicalism the program of the old Utopians had the practical tools to realise its vision, effectively without force. This made it a real threat to the traditional structure of power.

    In Ireland the forces of the counter-revolution gained the ascendant with help from England, and the regimes that became the Free State and Northern Ireland were to erase from memory the aims of the 1913 strikers, Syndicalism became merely Larkinism, Connolly was just an unrealistic communist, the new narrative painted the aims of revolt as purely a nationalist movement and not internationalist as Connolly had intended. The many women who had fought, were put back in their place by an ultra conservative Catholic hierarchy.

    For towns like Sligo and many others, the two new states that emerged were to have a catastrophic effect. Everything the workers had stood for in 1913, now marginilised them after 1922. The conservative forces of the new state now in power, were precisely those that had fought the workers during the strikes, The Catholic Church, the GAA, Sinn Fein, the Civil and public service. The Old English and Irish Catholic middle classes and elites that had flourished under the 19th century British empire had re-asserted control. A revolution pf sorts had occurred, but it was firmly from the top down.

    Even Sligos business owners who had in 1913 compromised and recognised the ITGWU in Sligo now found themselves quietly shut out, and so for the majority of the towns people the new state led to poverty, marginalisation, abandonment and emigration.

    In the words of the eccentric founder (and self professed anarchist and puncher of DH Lawrence) of the Irish Citizen Army along with Connolly, Jack White,

    “[the] rising is now thought of as purely a national one, of which the aims went no further than the national independence of Ireland”. “The true nature of this revolution, was conveniently forgotten”.

    Jack White

    Mural of James Connolly and Jim Larkin, The Mall, Sligo town 2021

    Author Byline Component

    – A Sligo Anarchist Academy Series Article –

    Notes

    Ralahine Commune – an unusal experiment in co operative village in County Clare Ireland. The co-operative issued its own currency as well as a having a cooperative general store.

    *Maolra Seoighe was posthumously pardoned by Micheal D Higgins in 2018

    anarcho-syndicalism, the now classical anarchist school of thought, Noam Chomsky stated that it remains “highly relevant to advanced industrial societies”

    Sources

    LABOUR v. SINN FEIN. The Dublin General Strike 1913/14 – The Lost Revolution

    “Lucien van der Walt “Industrial Union is the Embryo of the Socialist Commonwealth”: The International Socialist League and Revolutionary Syndicalism in South Africa, 1915-1920

    Lucien van der Walt – Black Flame Vol. 1

    https://blog.nli.ie/index.php/2013/03/08/sligo-dispute/

    https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/rocker-rudolf/misc/anarchism-anarcho-syndicalism.htm#s3

    https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/bakunin/works/1873/statism-anarchy.htm

    An Inquiry into the principles of the distribution of Wealth most conducive to Human Happiness as applied to the newly-proposed System of the Voluntary Equality of Wealth.” William Thompson, 1824

    ‘In 1905–1914 the Marxist left had in most countries been on the fringe of the revolutionary movement, the main body of Marxists had been identified with a de facto non-revolutionary social democracy, while the bulk of the revolutionary left was anarcho-syndicalist, or at least much closer to the ideas and the mood of anarcho-syndicalism than to that of classical Marxism.’ Eric Hobsbawm, ‘Bolshevism and the Anarchists’, Revolutionaries, New York 1973, p. 61. (Taken from Graeber, David, The New Anarchists, 2002)

    James Connolly – Socialism Made Easy – 1906

    James Connolly- Labour in Irish History – 1910

    Pat O`Sullivan – William Thompson: The First Irish Socialist 2012

    Robert Hoffman (1967). Marx and Proudhon: A Reappraisal of Their Relationship. 29(3), 409–430

  • Why Sligo Needs a World Class Museum

    Image: Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto | Architect Daniel Libeskind Berlin

    4,049 words, 21 minutes read time.

    In 2016, after 65 years in the town of Sligo, the Nobel medal of WB Yeats was removed from the little proto-museum attached to the library in Sligo town. This medal had been donated by William Butler Yeats son, Michael, and it is presumably the case that he knew that his father would have wanted the medal to be on display in Sligo. The medal was removed because Sligo does not have an accredited museum to store such artefacts.

    In 2015 nine rare bronze 16th century cannons from as far away as Barcelona and Dubrovnik in the east Meditarranean were lifted from the seabed off Streedagh. They could not be conserved here and had to be sent to Dublin where they remain. They will never come back here without a suitable museum. In fact the list of artefacts from all eras of Irish history and all types that are held elsewhere and cannot be brought back is very long, and continues to get longer.

    Sligos missing museum results in an incalculable loss both economically and culturally to the entire region. But it also seems to be the case that this is not well understood. There are currently proposals to build a Yeats Interpretive Centre, and of course all ideas to develop heritage are to be welcomed. But there is a problem. A museum is basic cultural infrastructure, and without it. the development and updating and accessibility of Sligo heritage is severely restricted.

    The difference between a museum and an interpretive centre is fundamental. One is infrastructure, the other is an amenity. They are not interchangeable. Its worth comparing the definitions of the two words just to be very clear.

    INFRASTRUCTURE – The basic physical and organizational structures and facilities (e.g. buildings, roads, power supplies) needed for the operation of a society or enterprise. “the social and economic infrastructure of a country”. —— From Latin infra ‘below, and structure to build. So that which underlies our systems and facilities.

    AMENITY – a desirable or useful feature or facility of a building or place. “the property is situated in a convenient location, close to all local amenities” —— late Middle English: from Old French amenite or Latin amoenitas, from amoenus ‘ pleasant

    So before you can build swimming pools or shopping centres you must put in roads and power. A museum represents the roads and power for the cultural sector. The reason for this is it is an accredited archaeological repository. This means it can hold, conserve, acquire and display real historical artefacts, something no other facility can do. A museum contains the conservation laboratories that allow the conservation and treatment of archaeological artefacts from the past, both those we have now and those yet to be found. As cultural infrastructure a museum actually supports and allows the creation of other cultural enterprises by providing the basic facilities and expertise they need to operate successfully. In other words, all projects, including interpretive centres are possible after a museum is in place, but to build them before it will not work.

    Due to these different functions interpretive centres cannot replace the role and expertise of a museum, and therefore they cannot have the financial and cultural impact of a museum. The reason for this is they are not licensed to hold real historical and archaeological artefacts, and without that ability they are restricted in scope.  

    The museum on planned for Connaughton Rd. that was abandoned at the end of the Celtic Tiger in 2007.

    Sligo’s Missing Museum

    Leaving aside the Model Arts centres original granting as a museum, Sligo almost had a museum built 14 years ago. A museum foundations lie behind the hoardings that stand to this day at the top of the Connaughton Road. Dating to the time of the Celtic Tiger, the project was begun and abandoned in 2007, with the Global Financial Crash, Sligo County Council also sank without trace, failing to return any accounts to central government for two whole years and becoming the most indebted council in the history of the Irish state. A grant for the museum of 2.9 million euro was switched to the Model Arts centre at this time, while it was claimed there was “no money” for a museum. At the same time Sligos new library was also shelved.

    Of course this means there is still no accredited archaeological facility in the northwest, (the Museum of County Life in May deals with 19th century folk collections only) which means, as our history covers thousands of years outside this, that like the Yeats Nobel medal mentioned above, we continue to lose more and more of our heritage every year.

    other projects cannot be supported

    This loss of a museum has been negative for all heritage projects in the region. Projects on the Greenfort, where the nature of the remains is not conducive to on-site development are held up by the lack of a museum to hold exhibitions. The Armada project in Grange, while looking for their own display space, would find it a lot easier if there was a museum to back up with loan of artefacts and expertise. The recent closure (June 2021) of the degree course in archaeology in Sligo IT can in part be traced to this failure to have a museum facility in Sligo.

    The spin off from having the artefacts in Sligo is not just in having a tourism facility in the heart of the town. These artefacts inspire the arts, they are paths into the history for children in education, they provide material for scientists to learn and practice techniques and develop world class expertise in. 

    Sligos archaeological and cultural heritage is enormous, spanning 8, 000 years, but the loss of the material remains has also been enormous. The ravages of colonialism have taken there toll and much of Sligos material history is scattered all over the UK and Ireland. Much of it of course is in Dublin, most of course is not on display, and never will be, as the National Museum just doesnt have the space.

    To get an idea, and its just an idea, of the broad historical themes a museum in Sligo will have to engage with and the amazing artefacts that come from this region but are held elsewhere, the following is a selection.

    Stone and Bronze Ages

    Sligo comprises only 2.5% of the land area of Ireland, yet it contains 15% of all known megalithic structures, perhaps the highest density anywhere in Britain or Ireland. 12% of all court tombs, 6.3% of all portal tombs, 7.5% of all wedge tombs, and an amazing 40% of all the passage tombs known in Ireland.

    Sligo is the only place in Ireland where all types of monument occur together. There are multiple sites on Knocknarea which are laid out in a similar fashion to Newgrange

    Carrowmore has the oldest form of passage graves known in Ireland, and is therefore unique, there is no other site like it. Also, of the four major passage tomb complexes in Ireland, two are in Co. Sligo. At Magheraboy the oldest known Causewayed enclosure in Britain or Ireland was found during road excavations, dating to 4100 BC. Sligos Neolithic archaeology alone would warrant a museum to itself.

    The area was densely enough settled to be known to Greek and Roman trading vessels being marked on Ptolemy‘s co-ordinate map of the 2nd century AD, where it is entered as the town of Nagnata. This is the only settlement marked on the west coast of Ireland by Ptolemy. It is possible traders were attracted by the silver and lead mines on the coast at Ballysadare.

    Gaelic Sligo


    The local Irish tuath, or territory, was called Cairbre Drom Cliabh or Críoch Cairbre. Another, older name, according to Acallamh na Sénorach, the “Dialogue of the Ancients” was Críoch an Cosnámha (The District of Battles). Its age is unknown, but it appears to have acquired the name Cairbre in the 5th or 6th century AD.

    Ringforts, raths and monasteries abound in the landscape and the names of the territories and landforms are gateways into the mythology which is rich.

    The two great Gaelic poets from Sligo Muireadach Albanach O Dalaigh and Tadhg Dall O Huiginn, masters of Dan Direach (Direct Verse) are both of international importance in their time, the 13th and 16th centuries respectively.

    The Manuscripts

    The Medieval Gaelic town of Sligo is highly unusual in being the seat of an urban Gaelic culture throughout the Middle Ages. This is unique in Ireland. It is because of this unique situation that many manuscripts were written and collected in this region before the fall of Gaelic civilisation in the 17th Century. Here the O Connors, the Orourkes, the MacDonaghs the O Haras the Ogaras, the ODowds and Mac Sweeneys all played their part in shaping the story of medieval Sligo.

    A large amount of Irelands ancient literature is preserved in books written in the northwest of Ireland, particularly in the Sligo region. In some cases the only surviving copy of some texts. The scholar Dubhaltaigh Mac Fhirbisigh of Lackan in west Sligo set about saving much of the ancient lore about the time of the Cromwellian wars, writing in the Book of Genealogies (a compilation of Irish genealogical lore relating to the principal Gaelic and Anglo-Norman families of Ireland and covering the period from pre-Christian times to the mid-17th century)

    If there is anything in it deserving of censure apart from that, I ask him who can to amend it, until God give us another opportunity (more peaceful than this time) to rewrite it.”

    Dubhaltach Mac Fhirbisigh 1650

    He wrote the above words on the 28 December 1650, just as English parliamentary forces, completing the Cromwellian conquest of Ireland, crossed the Shannon. Half the population did not survive this war.

    • The Great Book of Lecan,
    • The Yellow Book of Lecan,
    • The Book of Ballymote,
    • The Great Book of Genealogies,
    • The Poem-book of the OHara,
    • The Annals of the Four Masters,

    Not one of these books are now in this region.

    If even a portion of them was to be returned it would place Sligo as a centre for Gaelic scholarship for the future, as it had been in the Middle Ages.

    The Yeats Family

    Sligo has many famous connections, from Charlottes Stokers inspirational account of the Cholera epidemic, to Harry Clarkes mother who also grew up in Sligo. But the family most associated in the modern era is that of Yeats.

    All the Yeats family were artists and contributed to Irelands nascent Arts & Crafts movement, their importance to the entire history of the new state cannot be overstated. . The sisters Elizabeth and Susan who were well ahead of their time running the printing presses in Dublin on which many of their brothers books were printed. Jack Yeats, in hos own right is an artist of international reknown, and lesser known but no less important is his role in the development of the modern comic. W B provides an unparalleled link between Sligo and the worlds literature, as well as the complex history of colonialism and nationalism, and we are lucky to have an institution that examines these things in the long running Yeats Summer School. The Yeats Society is housed in a building associated with the Pollexfen family.

    However, even as we recognise WBs contribution to world literature, we must recognise something he himself would have insisted on, it is drawn on Sligo. A place that his mother always assumed to be the most beautiful in the world. It would be a mistake to celebrate Yeats and not the heritage that he himself drew on and all his life sought to highlight.

    The Armada Wreck-Site

    The Armada wreck site is so extensive it warrants its own post, but it must be known that this is probably the most important 16th century military wreck site in the world. Three ships fully equipped for the conquest of Britain were buried in the sandbanks of Streedagh beach. Much of the wreck site appears to survive, and looting and recovery did not happen at the time as the war agains Queen Elizabeth and Dublin raged for 15 years after their loss preventing recovery.

    All were large transports laden with material for the marine invasion of England, carrying soldiers, their equipment, and material for the siege and capture of London . Spain fielded the most advanced and best equipped army of its day. The three ships that were grounded here we know quite a bit about.

    • La Lavia  (25 guns). 728 tons 71 sailors 271 soldiers 355-568 tons Carrack Venetian merchantman from Naples. Vice-flagship of the squadron.

    • La Santa Maria de Vison de y Biscione)  (18 guns).70 sailors 236 soldiers 350-560 tons Ragusan (now called Dubrovnik) merchantman. 666 tons.. Armada medical supplies were transferred to her from the Casa de Paz which was condemned as unseaworthy during the voyage.

    • The Juliana (32 guns) 860 tons Built in 1570, she had 65 crew 290 soldiers estimated 325-520 tons burthen Catalan Barcelona merchantman., this ship was perhaps carrying siege train parts ie tools and potentially heavy guns for use against fortifications. hence cannon recovered with the Matrona of Barcelona Genoese gunfounder Gioardi Dorino II

    These details allow us to estimate what was wrecked on that day in September 1588. We can count 807 soldiers and 206 sailors, for a total of 1013 personnel altogether. But, the Santa Maria de Vison was acting as a hospital ship, we remember, which means the likely number of soldiers on board is probably higher and most of these would have been unable to escape. The total weight of the three ships displacement is 2254 tons of cargo and structural timber. This is equivalent to 112 modern steel shipping containers.

    As a rough comparison, Henry VIIIs flagship the Mary Rose, recovered from the Solent in 1984, was also a carrack albeit a big one. Only one third of this ship survived on the seabed and yet archaeologists recovered 26,000 objects and pieces of timber from this site. At the wreck site at Streedagh we have three ships of roughly 700 to 800 tons each. The site is orders of magnitude larger than the Mary Rose.

    “Though similar vessels have been excavated, the initial investigations hint at an unparalleled level of preservation not only in organic remains but in articulated hull structure”Unlike most Armada wreck sites they are accessible. .

    Why a museum is not a matter of choice

    But there is a serious reason that we must plan our cultural infrastructure now or face losing this resource to the rest of the world forever. With most sites in the state they are stable, being buried on land, or even in deep water at sea. But in this case its in a very active area, the coastline.

    The site being full onto the Atlantic is unstable, disturbed by storms most years. Every so often material is exposed. Every time the site is threatened it must be excavated by the state archaeology sector as it is a protected site. The law requires archaeological intervention to prevent the loss or destruction of archaeological material. This means that as time goes on, the site has to be excavated. There is no choice or option in this.

    And so we must plan to recover, conserve and display the artefacts and perhaps even the ships hulls that will likely have to be recovered in future from this site in the future. Good quality storage facilities, with appropriate environmental conditions and sufficient space are essential to protect the condition of the collections. If we dont we will be in breach of the National Monuments Acts if material is lost, and even if material is recovered every single bit of it will leave Sligo forever if we do not plan ahead.

    No County museum we envisage right now will be big enough to display the Armada material alone, or store it. So I would suggest that a site is reserved in Sligos docklands which has the space to handle ships timbers of large size. The site must be beside landing facilities at the quay in Sligo, and requires storage facilities that have access to salt water and are large enough to contain, in theory, three full scale Armada transports each with a 100 foot long keel. Another advantage of this location is access to the rail head allowing the transport of large and heavy artefacts in and out of Sligo as required, a likely scenario as a project on this scale is inevitably an international affair involving the Spanish government.

    This will require us to start building the expertise and facilities needed to deal with this over the next century. Sligo must develop expertise in marine archaeology dive teams, submersibles, scanning technology, the ships that can recover large objects from the ocean. Objects recovered are likley to be all sorts of material from the 16th century, all of which will require expert conservation. Expertise in scientific appllications in archaeology can be developed through Sligo IT archaeology department, with the museum collections providing the material on which to develop world class expertise.

    Regenerating Sligo Docklands?

    A site should be acquired on the quays whether or not its decided to place a museum there. The current plan envisages a museum alongside the new library between Stephen street and Connaughton road. Placing them beside each other has advantages, not least the eventual return of Sligos manuscripts should also be planned for, and with ancient books the line between museum and library is blurred and they may benefit through being integrated.. No matter what it is decided on to build first, its important to think in the long term when it comes to heritage and cultural infrastructure. The making available of funds for the building of a museum and library is a welcome development.

    The workers on the docks, the women workers in the textile factories on the Per mill Rd. and Market Yard. The story of the Dock Strike in Sligo where the workers won an important victory against the owners and that inspired the subsequent Lockout strikes in Dublin. Here we come full circle as one of the major owners was Pollexfens of the Sligo Steam Navigation Company, Yeats maternal family. The history of the town in the 19th century and the 20th century. the industrial area of the docks Sligo town is a neglected but important one to tell.

    Museums Create Cities

    Museum of Liverpool is “challeng[ing] preconceptions of the city, breaking down prejudice and feeding into regeneration strategies, to raise community aspirations and promote positive citizenship”

    NML, 2008

    Museums are economically transformative to the cities in which they are placed, having a large if indirect economic benefit. There are many examples of the regeneration of cities through the building of flagship museums The Guggenheim in Bilbao is a famous example that was intended, and succeeded in regenerating the city starting with its neglected docklands.

    Museums have the ability to present the stories of those traditionally left out of the narrative. Current exhibtions in the Museum of Country Life document the stories of women migrants currently living in Mayo, and importantly, are able to do so with a historical context often missing in other forms of presentation.

    Understanding the history of Ireland is also central to breaking down barriers with the Traveller community and creating a balanced narrative of the past, something that has been lacking in modern Irish history.

    “The traditional mission of a museum is essentially cultural. However, it is not like this for all museums. There are a minority, although universally famous museums, like the Tate Liverpool, the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao, the Tate Modern London, or the new forthcoming Louvre-Lens (France), Pompidou-Metz (France), Guggenheim-Hermitage (Lithuania) and Guggenheim-Abu Dhabi (United Arab Emirates), whose principal aim is the re-activation (and/or diversification) of the economy of their cities.”

    So, I want to pose the question of what the city museum can do as a part of the ongoing creative process of a city that is forever changing and being re-created. How can the museum of the city join the design energies and the political energies and the bureaucratic energies and the private sector energies and the people in a city as a civic lens to contribute to the form and personality and quality of that city – not just as an observer but as an actual player?

    If Sligo wishes to be a city it needs to engage with its past and its future and begin a conversation now on how to integrate the two. The effects of the destruction and dislocation of culture under imperial occupation, and as a border area are still keenly felt in the region, and result in a lack of ownership and sense of possibility of what Sligo and the northwest could be.

    It has a unique heritage that if understood can have a transformative effect, not just on Sligo, but on the northwest and the country. It is not intended to set out one right way to do things, but to lay out the magnitude and opportunity the past represents to Sligo, a past that if engaged with can be transformative to its fortunes. To do so will require thinking on a scale that, after a difficult few centuries is hard to envisage. But we used to think this way, and we can do so again.

    Royal Ontario Museum, integrating new and old.

    The Royal Ontario museum pictured above is designed to reflect its environment. In this case reflecting an ice crystal, and also integrated with the cities past architecture. As an example of the type of thinking that may be required, a concept has been put forward by architect Darragh Murphy for a museum to reflect Sligos mythology and inspired by the shape of the dolmens at Carrowmore, with the capstone on basal pillars.

    It is hoped this article gives some idea of the scale and scope of Sligos historical heritage, and stimulates a discussion on how best to plan to protect, recover and present that heritage to the world.


    https://sligoproposal.wordpress.com

    Links

    The City as Museum and the Museum as City

    https://omnimuseum.org/the-city-as-museum-and-the-museum-as-city.html

    Bilbao as global leader in culture led regeneration

    https://planetgeogblog.wordpress.com/2020/05/20/bilbao-city-a-global-leader-in-culture-led-urban-regeneration/

    Museums as economic drivers

    https://www.aam-us.org/2018/02/13/new-national-data-reveals-the-economic-impact-of-museums-is-more-than-double-previous-estimates/

    Appendix

    Council objectives, yet to be implemented, as laid out in Sligo County Council documents.

    • ‘Establish County Museum with curator and support staff”
    • “Appoint full time County Archaeologist with support staff””
    • Appoint full time Conservation Officer with support staff””
    • Carry out a survey and establish a database of Sligo’s archaeological objects”
    • Integrate heritage appraisal into planning sections
    • Geographical Information System (GIS)”
    • Carry out a survey of buildings in Sligo associated with the Yeats family
    • Promote heritage awareness through appropriate media”
    • Establish County local history publication unit””
    • Promote and develop the use of management plans for Sligo’s archaeological landscapes particularly Carrowkeel”

    Tate modern regenerates London district

    And in Rotterdam, Netherlands, the City Museum is working with the city and its communities as its ‘muse’.

  • The stream that flows backwards

    The stream that flows backwards

    Sligo’s last untranslated name, and the manufacture of the Devil’s Chimney

    Understanding Sligo Series – Dylan Foley

    There is a waterfall on the Sligo–Leitrim border that most people who photograph it have never actually seen. It cascades nearly five hundred feet off the limestone edge of Kings Mountain — the Benbulben massif — down into the Glencar valley. On a still day it is a thin white thread. But when the wind comes up the glen from the south-west and strikes the scarp, it catches the falling water and drives it back up over the lip, so that the stream appears to climb the cliff it is falling from. The water runs the wrong way.

    That is not a trick of the light. It is the thing the place is named for.

    Its name — its only real name, and until very recently its only name of any kind — is Sruth in Aghaidh an Aird. Literally, the stream against the height. But, the phrase in aghaidh an aird is an old idiom for something running upstream, backwards, against the current. The Electronic Dictionary of the Irish Language records the phrase plainly: anaghaidh aird, “uphill”; and glosses a line about the river Jordan turning in its course — a n-aghaidh áird — as “flowed backwards, up-stream.” So the name resolves, without much strain, to the stream that flows backwards. It is a precise folk-observation of an anomaly, fixed in speech. You have to earn the sight of it — wait for the right wind, in the right season, and look. Most people miss it. The name is the reading that a patient eye, over a long time, arrived at and passed on.

    You can now find this waterfall on signposts, on the county’s tourist pages, on a thousand phone screens, under the name the Devil’s Chimney.

    That name is not old. That name is not a translation. That name did not exist before December 2016.

    A name that was never rendered into gibberish

    To see what has actually happened here, it helps to distinguish three quite different operations that the last four centuries performed on Irish placenames. They are not the same.

    The first is translation — Irish into English, meaning carried across. It is rare, and it is comparatively benign: the content survives the crossing even when the sound does not.

    The second is anglicisation — the Irish rendered into English phonetic gibberish, the meaning destroyed, but a trace of the sound left behind. Sligeach becomes Sligo. Cúil Irra becomes Coolera. The word is disfigured, but a thread remains: you can work back along the sound to the body of the original. This is the operation that fell on very nearly every name in the county in the nineteenth century, most systematically through the Ordnance Survey. It is a partial glamour — a disfigurement but recognisable.

    The third is fabrication — the Irish name discarded whole, a new English name invented in its place, and false content installed where the reading used to be. No sound survives. No thread. And, characteristically, a phantom meaning is fitted over the gap so that the absence does not show.

    Sruth in Aghaidh an Aird had survived the second operation entirely. It was never anglicised, never mapped into gibberish, never flattened. It kept both its Irish form and its meaning, intact, into the twenty-first century — one of the very last prominent features in the county of which that could be said. (This is the sense in which it is “the last”: not that no other Irish name survives in speech, but that this was among the last major, visible landmarks whose name had never been mapped, translated, or mangled — it remained live, meaningful Irish.)

    And then, having escaped anglicisation for four hundred years, it was subjected to the most total of the three operations — fabrication — in living memory. In 2016.

    The manufacture

    The name the Devil’s Chimney appears to enter the record with a video uploaded to YouTube in December 2016.

    From there the sequence is ordinary. A walking-trail listing adopts the new name. The county’s own tourism material carries it. Signage goes up. Each step is individually unremarkable — a trail needs an English signpost, a marketing page needs a title that pays off, a sign follows the path already worn by the ones before it. No single act in the chain looks like an erasure.

    And note what the new name does, beyond replacing the old one. “The Devil’s Chimney sounds dramatic, and it is.” It invents a folklore. It implies a local belief — that the people of this valley looked at this cliff and thought of the devil, named it for him, carried some association we might now recover.

    Ask what that association was and the answer is: nothing. There was no such belief. The rising spray read as a chimney’s smoke, a devil supplied to furnish the chimney, and a piety back-projected onto people who never held it. The fabrication does not merely empty the slot. It manufactures a false depth to fill it — a heritage-shaped object where the heritage used to be. And the phantom is satisfying: it feels like folklore, so nobody enquires whether it is.

    Why it survived, and why it was vulnerable

    The obvious question is why this one name, alone, survived the nineteenth century intact —

    It survived because it was obscure. It was never on a map. It was a thing of local knowledge, pointed out to visitors sometimes as the place where the water flows backwards — a gnomic puzzle, a wonder you had to be shown and then had to wait to see. Its visibility to officialdom was low precisely because its meaning was conditional: the anomaly only appears in the right wind, and a surveyor passing on a calm day would see nothing to record. Hidden in plain sight, it slipped under the machinery that mangled every name it could actually catch hold of. Obscurity was its shelter.

    And obscurity is what it lost, all at once, in December 2016. The video, the trail, the signage made it visible — and visibility is what took it.

    Eochaidh Ó hEoghusa, writing of the whole territory around 1600, built his lament on a single counter-intuitive idea: that Sligo’s wealth is the cause of her destruction, that she is taken because she has something to take, that her fertility is her wound. He puts the covetous look and the spear-point under one word — renna — so that to be seen and to be struck are the same act. Sáithid Gaoidhil is Goill … renna a rosg: they drive in the points of their gaze.

    The name obeyed that law exactly. The property that made it worth stealing — its vivid, brandable, share-able wonder — is the very property that had kept it safe for four centuries by keeping it off the map. Spared by obscurity; destroyed by exposure. Once seen, it was taken. As it was in the 16th century, so is it now.

    What cannot be carried off is changed instead

    Taken, though, is not quite the right word for what happens to a waterfall. The renna law describes the taking of things that can be taken — cattle, grain, worked and defended land. But a waterfall cannot be carried off. Five hundred feet of falling water on a cliff of Dartry limestone is not portable, not burnable, not destructible by any raid. And this is precisely the case the poem reserves its strongest word for.

    In Ó hEoghusa’s catalogue of what was done to Sligo, the summits come last, and they are handled differently from everything else. The towers can be thrown down; the corn-yards can be burned; the pastures can be blanched. But the bare summits — maoilinn, indestructible — cannot be attacked in any of those ways.

    So what is done to them is done to their appearance: do siabhradh maise a maoilinn, “the beauty of her bare summits was bewitched” (q. 10). Siabhradh is the poem’s word for the operation performed on what cannot be destroyed. It is not decay and it is not decline. It is the changing of a thing’s aspect into something not-itself — glamoured, made spectral, made uncanny. When the substance is invulnerable, the operation moves to the countenance.

    That is exactly the operation on the waterfall. The water cannot be taken, so the name is changed — and the name is the countenance, the aspect under which the thing is known and reached. “Devil’s Chimney” is a siabhradh in the poem’s precise sense: an uncanny, demonic guise laid over a feature that could not otherwise be touched.

    But the modern case adds a clause the poem does not contain, and it is honest to mark the addition rather than smuggle it in. In Ó hEoghusa the siabhradh is an act of malice — a thing done to a territory by its enemies to disfigure what they could not destroy. In 2016 it is an act of commerce. Here the enchantment is not the end of the operation; it is the enabling first move of an appropriation. You cannot sell a five-hundred-foot cliff. But you can change its countenance — enchant the un-sellable landscape feature into a branded product — and the branded product can be sold, indefinitely, to everyone who arrives to photograph the devil. The siabhradh is what converts the immovable into the monetisable. Enchant first; then take.

    This is a synthesis of the poem’s two economic ideas, not a claim the poet makes: it welds the renna law — the covetous gaze that takes what it covets — to the siabhradh — the changing of what cannot be taken — and reads the fusion off a modern signpost. The poet kept them apart, one for the moveable wealth and one for the indestructible hills. The marketer joins them. What cannot be carried off is first changed in its aspect, and once changed, it can be sold.

    The name is a key, and the brand is just noise

    Set the two names side by side as information, and the material core of the case comes clear —

    Sruth in Aghaidh an Aird encodes an observation: at this cliff, under certain conditions, water moves against gravity. It is a fact about the behaviour of a specific place, arrived at by attention over time and stored in the name so that the attention need not be repeated from scratch by each generation. It is of a piece with the other precise water-language the same poet uses of the same country: he calls Sligo tirm-shreabh, the dry-stream, three separate times, and in the same breath describes her uplands as dripping wet. Rain-soaked hills, streams that run dry — a paradox only to someone who does not know limestone.

    On karst, rain sinks fast through fissured rock and surface streams vanish and resurface. The poet reports this accurately without any theory of it; he is simply recording what was seen. In aghaidh an aird is the twin of tirm-shreabh: two folk-readings of anomalous limestone-water, each one true, each one carried in a name.

    The Devil’s Chimney encodes nothing about the place. It is a misreading of the same upward spray — the rising mist taken for smoke — stripped of context, stripped of the territory, and refilled with an invented devil. It carries no recoverable observation. It only pretends to. The irony being of course that such a name could not be ancient – because such chimneys simply did not exist in Ireland. And this is what gives it a way as a modern invention, even if the renaming had not been catologued on the internet.

    So the operation is not simply Irish-replaced-by-English. It is a reading replaced by noise dressed as a reading. A name that was an instrument is swapped for a name that is a brand — and the difference is that the instrument required something of you (patience, the right conditions, the earned sight) while the brand requires nothing and delivers its devil on schedule, every visit, in any weather. That is the deeper reason a marketeer cannot tolerate the true name: a name that only reads sometimes is, to the tourist industry “footfall as god” gaze, a defect to be corrected. The wonder that had to be waited for is re-cut as a product that never disappoints.

    What the name holds, and what losing it destroys

    It would be easy to file this under trivial vandalism — a signpost, a lost word, no great matter. That underrates what a name of this kind actually is.

    Sruth in Aghaidh an Aird is not a label stuck onto a boundary. It is the boundary’s retrieval-key. The waterfall marks the Sligo–Leitrim county line — but the county line is only the latest tenant of a far older division. It follows the ancient border between the tuath of Cairbre Drom Cliabh and that of Dartraighe, the country of the MacFhlannchadha (Clancy), a sept under the O’Rourke of Bréifne. Hanging off the name, reachable through it, is that whole territorial memory: the tuath boundary, the sept, the confederation, and the hydrological observation all at once. The name is the index by which every one of those things stays retrievable in ordinary speech.

    Ó hEoghusa has a word for the destruction of a store like this. In his catalogue of what a raiding party does to Sligo, alongside the towers thrown down, he lists do hadhnadh a hiothlonna — her corn-yards were set alight. The iothlann is the bulk grain store. To burn it is not to win a battle; it is to convert a raid into a famine, to destroy not the visible object but the means by which life reproduces itself through the coming year. The poet knows this and lists it in the same breath as the towers.

    Erasing the name is iothlann. It does not lose a word. It burns the index — the means by which the deeper territorial history reproduced itself in the mouths of the people who used the name daily. The event is small; the famine of memory it produces is not. That is why renaming of this kind should be charted by anyone who takes heritage seriously. It is the modern equivalent of the burning of a grain-store, done quietly, with a signpost.

    The poem is about this ground

    Intriguingly, Ó hEoghusa’s poem is not describing Sligo in general. Its landscape vocabulary almost certainly describes this escarpment. He speaks of the all gruaidh-fhliuch — the “wet-cheeked” cliff, the rock-face streaming with water down its front (q. 22). He places the danger on the bearna fuara a himeall, the cold passes on the margin, the very rim of the territory (q. 23). He calls the uplands braontana, dripping (q. 25), and the slopes aol-chorcra, lime-purple, white stone and heather in one word (q. 6). And he locates the tract that smarts most um ghort Bhréifne — at Bréifne’s tilled field, the landward eastern edge (q. 16). Wet-faced limestone cliffs; cold passes on the border; dripping karst summits; the wound on the Bréifne march. That is certainly the Dartry scarp above Glencar, and it is the boundary this waterfall marks.

    The System that Failed

    There is one institution whose stated purpose is to prevent precisely this destruction, and it is the heritage function of the County Council. Others involved in this story acted in good faith and without malice. The machine that devours the heritage was set up centuries ago. But the council and its agents have no such escqape route.

    Its own published best-practice document opens by insisting that “perhaps the most important feature of our heritage is that it is non-renewable and unique,” and lists among its own duties to “provide advice to Sligo’s local authorities and communities on signage and placenames.” Signage and placenames. Non-renewable and unique. The remit could not be more exactly the shape of this case. Sligo County Council not only failed to protect the name, it actively used public money to destroy it.

    We acknowledge that mistakes are made sometimes, but when confronted with this there is a stony silence. The council, its heritage office, and its public advisory committees, such as the PPN committee on placenames, have not shown any interest or effectiveness in enforcing their own stated objectives, and have instead ironically become the agents of destruction of irreplaceable heritage. And in a manner far more complete than the remapping in the 19th century.

    Silence is also the default position of most of Sligos archaeological authorities, whether individuals or institutional who have left it up to the public alone to take up the issue.

    Against that remit, two facts. The county’s signage now carries the fabricated name. And through years of petitions, radio phone-ins, social-media argument and direct complaint, the council has issued no statement whatsoever on the matter.

    I report that silence as a fact, because it is one. The silence is the evidence. The evidence is unanswerable: nír fhiosruigh, ‘s nír aithin — the poet’s five-word diagnosis of how a thing is lost. They did not enquire, and so they did not recognise. Here it is nearly literal. The name that went onto the signs was not asked-after; it was sourced, at one remove, from a video and the mistaken belief that the waterfall had no name. Nobody posed the question that would have overturned it. And having not asked, they could not recognise what was already there.

    Against the current

    There is a last thing..

    The poem that gives us the tools to read this erasure is built, at its centre, on the return of Odysseus — the man who comes home unrecognised and must be slowly, laboriously known again before anything can be put right.

    The word Ó hEoghusa uses for that homecoming is frithing (q. 30): the counter-motion, the going-back-against, the retracing of a path. The whole nostos (longing for home) is a frithing. And the name being erased on the poem’s own border is water in counter-motion — in aghaidh an aird, the stream against the height, the going-back-against made visible in falling water.

    The figure at the heart of the poem — the counter-motion that restores what was lost — and the name of the waterfall are the same type of problem. The recovery the poem argues for and the name the marketers erased are both, precisely, against the current.

    So let this essay be what the poem asks for and what nobody yet supplied. The fiosrú: someone, asking what the place is called. The éisteacht: listening to the thing itself and what it tells us — the record, the water — rather than to the report of it on a signpost. And the aithne will come as it always comes, go hionmhall, slowly, against the current.

    The name was never destroyed. It cannot be. It was only made unrecognisable, and that is a condition with a cure.

    The stream still flows backwards. You only have to wait for the wind to see it..


    This is a working document, not a finished one. Corrections, and especially the pinning-down of the first-appearance date and the scope of the “last untranslated name” claim, are welcomed — the piece will be better for them. The full documentary timeline, with the search-and-fail record and the council correspondence, is set out separately.

    Further Material

    Link to the original “fail” video uploaded to Youtube December 7th 2016.

    Link to the Enniscrone /inshcrone controversy

    https://www.irishtimes.com/news/environment/plebiscite-due-on-enniscrone-versus-inishcrone-conundrum-1.3565874

  • Rural Ireland is Rich, not Poor: The Exploitation of Ireland by its Own System

    Despite success in raising living standards in Ireland since independence, and especially since joining the EU in the early seventies, Irish governments have failed to prevent the imbalance of development in Dublin at the expense of almost every region in the country. Emigration has remained a preferred solution to economic downturns, with the forcing of young people abroad by the cutting of social welfare payments for the under 24s. One in five Irish people now live abroad, the highest percentage in any OECD country, (there are 34 of them) Poverty and decline across what is termed “rural Ireland” remains endemic. Over large parts of the country, infrastructure continues to be less than it was in the 19th century under the British Empire. In the 1990s the train to Sligo was slower than it had been in the 1890s.

    All cities draw migrants from their hinterlands, but when that becomes the only choice in an entire country then there is a problem. drawing the people to Dublin is then a form of exploitation, and does not in fact do Dublin any favours either as one third of the national population now resides in the environs of the capital., putting its infrastructure, resources and quality and standards of living under severe pressure. the current housing crisis is a good example of this extreme imbalance.

    History of Over Centralisation

    The colonial history of Ireland has left indelible marks on the country that we are still struggling to deal with. Ireland is perhaps the most centralised state in Western Europe. Few countries have weaker regional representation, power and government, nor are any, quite as democratically insignificant as in the Irish case.

    The first point to make is that Dublin has only been the independent capital of Ireland for just over 90 years since 1922. Before that it acted as the centre of power for the British administration, effectively under the supervision of Westminster and the Crown. Prior to that, it was an outpost within the Pale of English culture, a foothold that had survived since the Norman invasion of 1169. Before that again it was of course a Viking trading centre and slave market tolerated by the Irish kings as long as it paid its dues. 

    For most of these centuries, the lands beyond the Pale fence were regarded as hostile and barbarous. Often a tax was paid, known as the Black Rent, to Irish chieftains in exchange for peace. For a thousand years, Dublin was an outpost in a foreign land. The psychology of this long history of division is evident to this day in the divide between the “city” and “rural Ireland”. Rural Ireland is the modern euphemism for the wild lands beyond the Pale, except now it is less a geographical reality, but a psychological one, existing in the minds of Irish people. It is little wonder Dublin has little tradition of acting in this role with full confidence of how to do it effectively, evenly and with benefit to the whole country. 

    But the colonial mindset did not go away. No reform happened after the Free State was established. In fact, the tendency towards centralised control established under Imperial conditions was exacerbated with the weakening of even the British created local democracy after the civil war because it was feared by the insecure Free State that anti-treaty councils would be uncontrollable, therefore the centrally appointed executives (county managers) were made more powerful than the elected council. A situation that continues to this day. 

    On the other side, the alienation of Irelands regions stems from the same history. Disconnection from what was, after all, an alien system imposed by the British through Dublin was the norm from the late 16th century onward. This means there is little sense of ownership and rights to self determination at a regional level. Instead, people are elected in the hope that when they go to Dublin they may wrest favours from the system. This has kept clientelism alive and well, with dynasties inheriting the role of spokesman for the areas by default.

    Even after engagement with the EU, which requires strong regional structures to create balanced development, Ireland has continued to resist the devolution of meaningful power to the regions. Preferring to set up unelected quangos and boards that are centrally appointed. There are no directly elected provincial or regional authorities between central government and the local authorities in Ireland. The eight regional assemblies that do exist are so weak and uninfluential that most people have never heard of them. The maze of entities and overlapping bodies means no-one has a clear idea of how anything works, or how to get anything done. 

    Instead of services being delivered by local councils, a multitude of executive agencies has been created, like Irish water and Transport Infrastructure Ireland, which consist of unelected professionals only and are therefore out of localised regional control. Even cases of supposed “decentralisation”, where government departments have been moved to regional centres is not true decentralisation. For that to be the case, power would have to delegated to these centres as well, but that is not the case. It remains firmly entrenched in Dublin.

    So, almost all regional activities of the state are organised centrally and delivered in a “top down” model imposed on communities across the country. Direct applications for project funding to Europe from Irelands regions are not allowed, instead, they are routed through Dublin first for approval or alteration. This is not the norm across Europe, and neither has it been successful. For example, in the Border, Midland and Western (BMW) region funds earmarked were under-spent by  59 per cent and under 20 per cent in some seven measures (just 4.6 per cent of spending forecast for regional innovation and 1.2 per cent for waste management had been spent up until 2002. Vast sums of EU money has had to be sent back as projects could not be found for it. An astonishing fact considering how underdeveloped much of Ireland still is.

    Furthermore, plans are changed on an ad hoc basis depending on which government gets into power, the centralised decision making leaving regions interests vulnerable to sacrifice depending on the political climate.

    Underlying this is an inherited cultural belief that regional Ireland is fundamentally economically unviable, and therefore dependent on handouts from central government. It is regarded as a waste of resources to invest in regional areas infrastructure as national concerns are prioritised over regional ones. The colonial system was an efficient machine designed to efficiently remove resources to centres of British power and exert a centralised control from a base  convenient to Britain, and the Irish state has not only continued that setup, it has made it worse. 

     This belief in the poor status of much of regional Ireland is again an inherited belief to do with the history outlined above. But is it really the case that Ireland is poor by default? Or is it merely our inherited beliefs and their consequences that make it so?

    The Solution is Simple: Quid pro quo (Something for Something)

    The ironic thing is that Ireland was once one of the most decentralised countries in Europe. Traditionally, local autonomy was extremely strong, and this was the norm for thousands of years, until the 17th century. Hence, traditions of local governance lie just below the surface in the Irish psyche. This is the reason for Irelands dispersed settlement pattern and adherence to place amongst its population. The destruction of this system has never been addressed. 

    Now, and increasingly in the future, Irelands regions will be looked to to provide resources for the east, both of this country and further afield in Europe. 

    The second irony of all this is that Irelands regions have of course got vast natural and cultural resources whether it be water, clean energy and forests, whether as carbon sinks or for timber. In terms of energy based on waves and wind, the west has an enormous untapped potential in non polluting energy production. The sea area off the west coast is five times the size of the entire island. Air quality and water quality is better, something increasingly valuable in todays world, with water expected to surpass the value of oil in the not too distant future. Not to mention gas and oil reserves off the coast that are increasingly being found. Archeological and cultural tourism are increasingly popular in the regions, and these have a rich heritage in these areas. However the current lack of regional autonomy means this wealth will either be taken without benefitting the regions from which it is sourced, or wealth generated in the regions are sent to Dublin to be spent on the priorities of central government only.

    In order to create a fairer situation, the solution must be to create the missing tier of regional government between local councils and central government. This must be directly elected so that the concerns of those regions are implemented by these authorities as priorities. A democratic structure with real local power has the ability to receive direct taxation from activities in its area, and this means it can effectively redress the balance that has been lost over the past four centuries.

    As an example, Dublin wishes to tap the Shannon to ensure its water supply into the future. Currently that will be of no benefit to the regions along the river whatsoever. However, a democratic regional authority can be paid a percentage of the price of the water in taxation, effectively allowing the transfer of money from the wealthier centres of population to those areas that provide the resources, but are underdeveloped. 

    The same authority can then spend the money on regional projects considered important by the prople in those areas. For example, extending the Corrib gas pipeline to the northwest, or building the western rail corridor, both projects considered “unviable” by central government at the present time. If America had thought the same way in the 19th century, nothing would have been built beyond New York. Note the railway came first, then the development. The same model of transfer of wealth in both directions applies to all resource extraction activities, and to a percentage of tax gathered in those regions that can go directly to their respective regional authorities. Hence, only the real devolution of power to Irelands regions can bring balanced development, anything else is a sham to give the impression of caring for the regions, while retaining a grip on centralised power at any cost.

    The east has the people and the money, the regions have the resources, let us trade indeed, but let us demand fair trade, as it is in the interests, not only of Irelands regions, but also the increasingly overcrowded east that a model for balanced development that actually works is adopted, and hopefully sooner rather than later.

    1 million still live in poverty

    References

    Hayward,  Katy  A marriage of convenience: the EU and regionalisation in Ireland

    Kearns Gerry, Historical Geographies of Ireland: Colonial Contexts and Postcolonial Legacies

    Mac Siomoin, Tomas, The Broken Harp

    Creative Commons License
    This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.