God Save Ireland, and up the 'RA

I'm a sinner and I did know what I whent to; The Wolfe Tones, Guinness, some 300 drunk Irish and lyrics whos content are in the best controversal. In worst political tastless. In reality entertaining, magic and, indeed, Irish. In short: I had my expectation, I had my thoughts about the Wolfe Tones; I thought of two hours of traditional folk songs, and perhaps one or two rebell songs like James Connolly, They Wounded Old Ireland or The Town I Loved so Well, songs whos content are rather sad, dreaming, honoring the lost and gone, praying for better days to come...a silent accept of a country's fate. But, this didn't happen, and indeed, I do not regret that I drop the Pub crawl that night to spend the night "alone" at the student pub with this band. Visiting 4 pubs in one night will I have the posibility for later, to be 10 meters from a man, a voice, I for long time did think of as gone: one posibility, one night, once in a life time. My very first 100% Irish evening who I hoped would atleast give me a broader perspective of irish music, and the Irish themself. That the evening in its very nature should go in a revolutionary direction quite litterary I had no idea. As I arrive the place the concert were to be i soon understand what were about to happen: peopel showed up wraped in the Tricolor, in Green, in 1916 shirts wearing the national jersies and tricolor scarf. Luckly I came in touch with two german girls who's in my Buddy group, and as we stood in front of the scene with each our Guinness (and Bulmer) the room slowly was filled up and the atmospher grow more and more extatic, proud. And then did Derek Warfield, wearing a black cowboy hat and a gitar in the one hand and a pint of Foster's in the other enter the stage applauded by attendence and musicians. Without a word he smiles, greets us and as the most natural thing he starts singing "God save Ireland", as a way of presenting himself, and in seconds the entire room sings along. Between the songs Warfield held smal speaches, partly historical, partly political, fully honest, but not aggresiv, rather patriotic.

After setting the mood with a long speach of the Irish history, about the English invations, famines, the rebellions and the imergeing of the IRA in the year after the Easter Rising, he took a sipp of his beer, turned back towards us asking; Have any of ye seen any Black 'n Tans around Belfield lately? No? We all know the reason for that? And the room explodes in a unison, proud cheer "The IRA made them run like Hell away!". In nearly all cases I would have experienced this as a threatning mob, I do have some problems with the mix of Nationalism and violence, but still...the mood of the people. It wan't hate, more a triumphfull celebration of a historical reason, like a less militant verson of the Organge March up in the North. And, "Come out ye Black and Tans" are a quite jolly song about a man running out in the Streets after the pubs have closed and begging "the Tans" to fight him like a man, like they (the English) did in Africa and India. The Black and Tans was followed with some "calm" ballads "In the Streets of New York" and some other whos name I can't remember. Now did a new speach follow, about the Irish recistance, and I quote:

All other nations in Europe have memorialized their
heros and patriots with huge monuments in stone and the name of their heros at wonderfull buildings, but we never do that. In Ireland, boys and girls, we have music. The monuments is in our songs and our monuments are in our patriotic ballads, and we should never ever appolgize to anybody for the content of our patriotic songs.

Then he song "Boys of the Old Brigade" and without waiting for the by now ecstatic crowd to calm he went straight on to "Men behind the Wire", one of my favorite rebel songs, and the fact that you suddenly have gone from being a lonely…um...rebel to stand in the middle of a ad hoc band of brothers and sisters where no one judge you for knowing such lyrics…I may call it pure pleasure. And, from there I was lost, lost in a situation I only few weeks saw as a part of the history. I have always, after I start listening to rebel songs, wanted to attend a republican concert, but saw this as a thing that only could happen if someone invented a time machine and transported me back to Derry, Enniskillen, Omagh or some parts of Belfast in the early 80s, and you did cheer the IRA because it likely was their snipers at the roof tops around who hold the RUC away so the concert could happen. But, this was Dublin, in peace time, after both IRA and RUC left the stage of existence, more precisely; some 10 minutes walk from my address and I was suddenly a part of the crowd.

As the tones from the song ended the room keep on cheering “Oh ah Up the ‘RA, say Oh ah the ‘RA (this acronym is an easy one) until the banjo player took one of the most spectacular solos I ever heard, he was the Devil, the Master himself. An quite needed pause. People were dancing, throwing their beer and waving their shoes, and the “Up the RA”-cheer were soon to be a permanent part of my inner voice, and Derek Warfield didn’t make it easier with his frequent returns to this cheer, and to be honest, I do not complain. Exchange studies are for broadening the cultural perspectives, and if that mean cheering the martyrs from the 1981 Hunger Strike and the republican prisoners and they who fight the Brits during the Troubles; so be it.

It’s much I could say about the rest of the concert, but in fact I think I will skip to the last part, after the Foggy Dew, perhaps my absolute favourite rebel song, depending of who’s singing, had been song in a quite moving way. Especially the honouring of the leaders who were executed in the aftermath of the 1916 Rising. I think it was at this time I first understood that I till then maybe had underestimated the Irish, that some part of their history are indeed more important for them than it would be for us. For example; who did lead the Norwegian soldiers during the war against Sweden in 1814? Who were the ministers in Christian Michelsen’s government? Who were in the War Cabinet in London? The Volunteering Rifle Association? The crowd where now blissfully just shouting “IRA, IRA, IRA” and the bar was, to many peoples agony, closed. BTW; isn’t that a kind of... unfavourable: Some 300 IRA sympathizers and a bar that closes, or evens worse; 300 THISTY IRA sympathizers and a closing bar? Well, the building still stand, hence I guess nobody refused to budge. Out of this chaotic environment the concert reach it zenith as Derek Warfield grabbed his own guitar again after “just” doing the characteristic vocals during the previous songs, and as he stroke the chords he regain the control of the room an lead the choir into “A Nation once Again” and finally, the Soldier Song, the national anthem, as the evening hadn’t been Green (White and Orange) earlier, and were indeed a huge contrast compared with the rather international environment UCD like to identified them self as in the brochures. But then again, I don’t have any plans of being international; I’m in Ireland to open to the Irish, and not to the entire Union or the term “International”. Meeting other, absolutely, but the cultural approach is emerald green.

This is now nearly four days ago, and since then I have had a quite interesting period of just trying to understand what’s really happen, and to try explaining the fact that I hadn’t any problems joining the crowd. And, to some extend to say why, the lyrics of the ballad of James Connolly, in all its melancholic beauty, turns to life:

God's curse on you England,

you cruel hearted monster.

Thy deeds they will shame

all the Devils in Hell.

Conclusion: It was craic, a grand evening, absolutely...I have no words to explain how great it was. After all, how often do a norwegian (in theory lutheran despite personal atheism) have the possibilities to walk the way back home singing “Ah oh Up the ‘RA” and smile?

- Dublin. Out.