Lèirmheas: Dune 2

Choimhead mi Dune 2 a’ chiad uair air an sgàilean mhòr aig a’ Highland Cinema anns a’ Ghearasdan na bu tràithe am bliadhna, agus nuair a thàinig mi a-mach às an taigh-dheilbh, bha mi air chrith. Cha chreid mi gun tug film eile an aon bhuaidh orm on a chunnaic mi a’ chiad Star Wars anns an taigh-dheilbh is mi nam bhalach bheag air ais an 1977. Cheannaich mi an DVD, agus choimhead mi a-rithist e thar an deiridh-sheachdain corra thuras, agus ged nach robh an aon bhuaidh aige air an sgàilean bheag, bha e fhathast uabhasach math.

Tha fios gun robh mòran iomagaineach, agus ’s e faochadh a th’ ann gu bheil e cho math ’s a tha e. Bha an leabhar cianail cudromach dhomh nuair a bha mi òg, agus easbhaidhean an dàrna taobh, tha mi cuideachd measail air a’ film aig David Lynch. Bha a’ chiad film anns an t-sreath ùr seo glè mhath, ach bha fios gum biodh an dùbhlan a bu mhotha ri thighinn anns an dàrna fear. An soirbhicheadh le Denis Villeneuve far nach do shoirbhich le Lynch no Alejandro Jodorowsky roimhe?

Ann am meadhan nan seachdadan, nuair nach deach e le Jodorowsky, dh’fhalbh George Lucas, agus rinn e Star Wars, a bha, gu h-ìre mhòr, na thionndadh faoin ach spòrsail air an sgeulachd aig Frank Herbert, agus leis an fhìrinn innse, is dòcha gum b’ e deagh rud a bha sin. B’ e film às na 70an a bh’ ann an Star Wars gu a chùl. Cha chreid mi gum freagradh an Dune aig Villeneuve air an linn sin, ach tha e a’ faireachdainn buileach iomchaidh dhan linn againne, le a chnuasachadh air cumhachd agus air a’ chunnart an cois ceannardais mhesiasaich.

’S e film dorcha gun dòchas a th’ ann, agus ’s ann mar sin a lorg mi an nobhail nuair a bha mi òg. Tha an saoghal aig Dune uile gu lèir Machiavellianach. ’S e deachdairean geur-chùiseach a th’ ann an teaghlach Paul Atreides, dìreach rud beag nas sìobhalta na an teaghlach Harkonnen, ach iad nan deachdairean fhathast. Agus còmhla ris na Bene Gesserit, an Spacing Guild, an t-Iompaire fhèin: tha iad uile a’ cluich an aon gheama chumhachd, geama gun iochd. “This world is beyond cruelty,” mar a chanas Paul anns a’ film, agus tuigear gu bheil e a-mach air an t-saoghal aige air fad, chan ann a-mhàin air Dune fhèin.

Tha Dune 2 dìleas dhan lèirsinn dorcha a thug buaidh cho làidir orm nuair a bha mi nam bhalach, agus nach do bhris e mo chridhe a-rithist, ceathrad ’s a chòig bhliadhna air adhart, air latha dorcha, fliuch, ann am baile beag, glas, fada on bhaile mhòr, uaine, làn dòchais far an d’fhuair mi m’ àrach òg.

Air a phostadh ann an Ficsean-saidheans | Air a thagadh , , , , , , | Sgrìobh beachd

The Death Discourse is a Dead End

The fear that Gaelic is dying is nothing new. Folk have been warning that Gaelic could be dead ‘in ten years time’ since at least the 1980s, and folk have been agonizing about the imminent death of the language for much longer than that, but while not new, I would argue that this death discourse is potentially self-sabotaging and damaging to our language-revival movement.

Successful language revivals are, first and foremost, vibrant social movements, so as activists, we want to frame our revival in a way that inspires folk to get involved, but as with any social movement, it is not aways easy to know the best way to do this. For example, there has been quite a bit of public debate recently, and a fair amount of research, on this question with regards to climate change. Should we frame climate change as an existential crisis (so called ‘emergency framing’) or would more positive, hopeful framing be more effective for motivating folk to take action?

The truth is we don’t know. The results of the best current research are mixed, but there is some data to indicate that emergency framing can, in some situations, be less effective than more positive messaging, and while this question has not been specifically studied in the Gaelic context at all yet, I would argue there are good reasons to be at least concerned that emergency framing might also serve to put off folk from getting involved in our language revival.

For instance, concider how parents might repond to the death discourse. Would parents be more or less likely to speak Gaelic with their children or to enrol their children in Gaelic-medium education if they think that the language is failing? Quite rightly, parents want to give their children the skills they will need to succeed in life, but the death discourse gives the opposite impression of the language: it gives the impression that Gaelic is increasingly useless.

Or consider how politicians might interpret this discourse. As Gaelic activists, we are a very small group. Depending how you define a ‘Gaelic activist’, there are a few dozen of us, or maybe a few hundred at most, so we don’t constitute a meaningful voting block by ourselves. To rally politicians to our cause, we have to convince them that our enthusiasm for Gaelic is shared by a significant percentage of the general public, but the death discourse, again, gives the opposite impression. From the perspective of politicians, it might appear politically naive, and possibly even undemocratic, to continue to dedicate public resources to a language that their own constituents appear to be abandoning.

Yes, Gaelic is a threatened language, and I am not arguing that we should lie to people, but I am arguing that we should tell a different story: a more hopeful and better balanced story, and thereby, a more accurate one. Any language revival is a mixture of good and bad news, and while we have to be mindful of where we need to do more work, focussing almost exclusively on our fear that Gaelic will soon be dead actually misrepresents the situation. It may feel cool-headed, clear-eyed and realistic to some activists, but in reality, it is none of these things.

The problem with emergency framing in this respect is that it is both too optimistic and too pessimistic at the same time. It is too optimistic because it asserts that there is still a vernacular language left to ’save’, but as I have argued before, that horse bolted in the 1960s and 1970s, and there is no real prospect of reviving Gaelic as the principal vernacular language in the Islands or anywhere else in Scotland in either the short or medium term.

But also, emergency framing is too pessimistic because it asserts that Gaelic dying, when the truth is that, by many measures, Gaelic has never been more popular in Scotland. There is exactly zero chance that Gaelic will die out as an everyday spoken language in the Islands or in Scotland in general in any of our lifetimes. Gaelic is changing—has changed—from a language spoken in territorial speech communities to one spoken in language networks, but it has not died. Engaged scholarship and effective advocacy alike should be about helping the Gaelic-speaking world to understand this change and figure out how to make it work.

There is a persistent belief, though, shared by many Gaelic activists and even some scholars, that territorial speech communities are the sin qua non of living languages, but if we want to strengthen Gaelic as a vital, widely-spoken language into the 21st century, we have to work with Gaelic as it is in the real world, not as we wish it was. We have to work with those who are actually interested in learning, using and passing on the language, not force our revivalist aspirations on individuals or communities because we believe they should save their language.

In 1998-99, as part of his PhD research, Alasdair MacCaluim conducted a detailed survey of 643 learners and new speakers of Scottish Gaelic. One of the questions he asked was to what degree they either agreed or disagreed with the following statement: “Gaelic can only be saved if Gaelic speaking communities continue to exist in the Islands”, and he found that a clear majority of respondents, 67.6%, either agreed or strongly agreed with this assessment. (p. 264)

And this is, I think, the heart of the problem. Many Gaelic speakers, including many learners and new speakers, need Gaelic to exist in the Islands as a common vernacular to satisfy their own understanding of Gaelic as a real, living language, but folk on the Islands were not put on this planet to serve as a means to someone else’s ends. They will make their own decisions, and the reality is that, to date, a significant proportion of Islanders have decided that they are not particularly interested in the Gaelic revival, at least for now.

There are, of course, plenty of folk living in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland who are passionate about Gaelic, who want to learn, use and pass it on, and they should be unstintingly supported, but there is also huge interest in learning and using Gaelic throughout Scotland, and if all these interested folk, wherever they may be, could be helped to become active Gaelic speakers, Gaelic’s future in Scotland would be really bright.

There is no limit to what we can achieve; we just have to fight together for the structures (and money) required to turn interest into ability and then ability into use, but to do this, to build the kind of vibrant, optimistic social movement that could successfully pressure the government to genuinely support the Gaelic revival, I believe we need to tell a different story.


Post script: here are a few examples of some Gaelic developments that are making me feel optimistic just now:

Cnoc Soilleir, South Uist – Cnoc Soilleir is an inspiration. Local grassroots activists created a centre that should serve as an exemplary model for community-based language and cultural development throughout Scotland and around the world.

Cultarlann, Inverness – Another amazing grass-roots-built Gaelic cultural centre, this one in an urban setting.

Gaelic in Sleat – Several generations of Gaelic activists have built a level of institutional support for the language in Sleat that actually appears to be delivering a real, measurable revival. The recent census results here are very encouraging.

Gaelic numbers in Scotland as a whole – Some may talk these numbers down, and it is true that we don’t yet know who these new speakers are or what sort of Gaelic they can speak, but the fact that 12 thousand more people rated their own Gaelic abilities or those of their children highly enough that they were willing to record themselves or their children as Gaelic speakers is unquestionably significant positive news.

Ionad Gàidhlig Dhùn Èideann – Edinburgh Gaels are nothing if not persistent. It took Gaelic activists in the capital 13 years to win a Gaelic primary school, and they are still fighting the council for a Gaelic high school. It is taking them even longer to win the battle for a Gaelic centre in the city, but I wouldn’t bet against them.


“Gaelic could ’die’ in ten years.” The Scotsman, 7 December, 1983, p 7.

MacCaluim, Alasdair. (2002) Periphery of the periphery? Adult learners of Scottish Gaelic and reversal of language shift. PhD thesis, University of Edinburgh.

By analysing Gaelic poetry, Wilson McLeod shows how Gaels were concerned about the possible death of the language as early as the late 18th century: McLeod, Wilson (2003) “Language Politics and Language Consciousness in Scottish Gaelic Poetry.” Scottish Gaelic Studies 21: 91–146.

For a good review of the many questions and uncertainties around ‘emergency frames’ see: James Patterson, Carina Wyborn, Linda Westman, Marie Claire Brisbois, Manjana Milkoreit and Dhanasree Jayaram (2021) ‘The political effects of emergency frames in sustainability.’ Nature Sustainability 4, 841–850.

For an interesting recent article empirically looking at this question see: Marjolaine Martel-Morin and Erick Lachapelle (2022) ‘Code red for humanity or time for broad collective action? Exploring the role of positive and negative messaging in (de)motivating climate action.’ Frontiers in Communication 7.

For a scholarly critique of the death discourse in the Scottish Gaelic context, see: MacEwan-Fujita, Emily (2006) “Gaelic Doomed as Speakers Die Out?: The Public Discourse of Gaelic Language Death in Scotland.” In Wilson McLeod (ed), Revitalising Gaelic in Scotland: Policy, Planning and Public Discourse. Edinburgh: Dunedin Academic Press, 279-293.

And for a scholarly critique from a North-American perspective, see: Davis, Jenny. (2017) “Resisting rhetorics of language endangerment: Reclamation through Indigenous language survivance.”, Language Documentation and Description 14, 37-58. Thank you to Prof Martin Kohlberger for drawing my attention to this article.

Photo: Diego Delso, delso.photo, License CC-BY-SA

Air a phostadh ann an Uncategorized | Air a thagadh , , , , | Sgrìobh beachd

Consultation on the Scottish Languages Bill

Below is my personal response to the consultation on the Scottish Languages Bill. If you haven’t submitted your own response yet, there is still time! The consultation closes on Friday, and you can find the forms here in English and in Gaelic.

Distinguished members of the Education, Children and Young People Committee,

Thank you for the opportunity to comment on the current draft of the Scottish Languages Bill. While there is much to recommend in the current draft, I would like to focus on one critical weakness I see in the bill as it stands, and that is that the draft legislation establishes no new language rights for Gaelic or Scots speakers, and specifically, no parental right to Gaelic medium education (GME).

Gaelic is in an enigmatic position in Scotland at this point in its history. In some respects, the language has never been more popular. When asked in Scottish Social Attitudes Survey, 90% of young adults said that Gaelic is an important part of Scotland’s cultural heritage and 59% of young adults said that they would like to speak better Gaelic. With this kind of support, Gaelic should be in rude health, but it is also true that public provision of Gaelic adult and childhood education lags far behind this demand, with less than 2% of Scots reporting any ability in the language in the last census and only 1% of Scottish primary students enrolled in GME.

The provision gap in GME is particularly damaging. While research shows that GME is very attractive to parents throughout Scotland, with 28% of adults reporting that they would consider GME for their children if offered in their area, GME is still only available in 3.1% of Scottish primary schools. Given this demand, and after 40 years of pressure from parents and other activists, provision should be much more widespread than it is now, but the growth of GME has been consistently blocked by councils around the country and hindered by a lack of a clear parental right to GME for their children.

A right to GME was a central demand of the campaign for secure status for Gaelic in the 1990s, a campaign that culminated in the Gaelic Language (Scotland) Act 2005, but when the final act was passed, to the great disappointment of Gaelic activists and parents, no such right was included. Indeed, the act was so weak that it did not contain any substantive language rights at all. As a result, parents and other Gaelic activists have been left to fight long and exhausting political campaigns to force councils to open Gaelic units and schools again and again for decades. The Education (Scotland) Act 2016 only further enshrined this broken process in law.

A parental right to GME is practical and achievable in a country as wealthy as the Scotland. Of course, such a right would require rapidly growing the supply of Gaelic-medium teachers, but with sufficient political will, this is entirely possible. For example, in the Basque Autonomous Community (BAC) in Spain, a region with a similar per capita GDP to Scotland, through a generous program of language-learning bursaries and sabbaticals, authorities increased the supply of teachers qualified in the Basque language from around 5% to almost 90% in less than 30 years.

As the statistics above show, Gaelic’s support in Scotland is far broader than its small number of speakers might suggest. With the proper educational provision, Gaelic has the potential to grow to be a widely-spoken language again in Scotland, but that provision will only materialize if Gaelic speakers are afforded substantive language rights in legislation. Our experience with the Gaelic Language (Scotland) Act 2005 has taught us an important lesson: serious language legislation has to confer language rights.

I sincerely hope that this can be achieved. I remain optimistic that political support for language rights can be found in the current parliament, and above all, that this legislation can be strengthened to include a clear right for parents to choose Gaelic education for their children.

Thank you very much for your time and consideration.

Is mise le meas,

Dr Timothy Curry Armstrong

Senior Lecturer in Gaelic and Communication, Sabhal Mòr Ostaig

Bòrd na Gàidhlig. 2023. Gaelic Education Data 2022-23. Inverness.

Mac an Tàilleir, Iain. 2014. Cunntas-sluaigh na h-Alba 2011; Clàran mun Ghàidhlig [The 2011 Scottish Census; Responses about Gaelic]. Unpublished report.

O’Hanlon, Fiona and Lindsay Paterson. 2017. “Factors influencing the likelihood of choice of Gaelic-medium primary education in Scotland: results from a national public survey.” Language, Culture and Curriculum 30 (1): 48‒75.

ScotCen Social Research. 2022. Scottish Social Attitudes Survey 2021: Public attitudes to Gaelic in Scotland – Main report. http://www.gaidhlig.scot/en/news/SSAS/

Zalbide, Mikel and Jasone Cenoz. 2008. “Bilingual Education in the Basque Autonomous Community: Achievements and Challenges.” Language, Culture and Curriculum 21(1): 5‒20.

† Edited, 2/3/24. I got this stat wrong in my actual submission. It should be 28% rather than 27% as I had it in the documant I sent into the consultation.

Air a phostadh ann an naidheachd | Sgrìobh beachd

Agallamh Rèidio le Màrtainn còir!

Feasgar Diardaoin, 22/2/24, aig 9, bidh mi nam aoigh air a’ phrògram-chiùil aig Màrtainn Atherton. B’ urrainnear èisteachd ris air an latha an seo: cambridge105.co.uk. Bidh sinn a-mach air ceòl punc Gàidhlig agus ficsean-saidheans, agus is dòcha gun cluich e òran Mill a h-Uile Rud na ruith. Mo chreach!

Agus ma chaill sibh e, b’ urrainnear èisteachd ris a-rithist an seo: Songs from the Gaelic World -28 (Guests – Tim Armstrong & Charles Wilson).

Air a phostadh ann an ceòl, Ficsean-saidheans, naidheachd | Sgrìobh beachd

Do we have a right to Gaelic in Scotland?

I would like to make the argument, if I can, that if we want to save Gaelic, we have to start talking more about language rights. I think that it has become very clear now that begging from year to year for more funding is not working. It is exhausting, and I would argue, for a small language revival movement with limited resources of time and energy, it is also a dead end. In contrast, I believe that a focus on winning language rights would be a far more effective and sustainable tactic for our movement because rights would give us a way to short-circuit the endless neo-liberal wrangling about funding levels. With clear language rights, we could simply demand that our rights be enforced, and it would be up to the government to find the money to fund implementation.

True, governments around the world routinely ignore statutory rights, but when they do, rights give activists clear and compelling interests to defend and multiple routes by which to defend them: they can rally around them; they can make moral arguments in their support; and critically, they can go to the courts and force governments to act.

The fact the Scottish Government has been so reluctant to create any enforceable language rights for Gaelic speakers should tell us all we need to know. The Gaelic Language (Scotland) Act 2005 passed unanimously, at least in part, because it was so weak, because it conferred no new rights. The current legislation under consideration, the Scottish Languages Bill, also contains no significant new rights, and apparently, that was by design. Politicians know that explicit language rights would give us powerful tools to force the government to spend real money on behalf of the language, and they aren’t about to give us such tools without a fight.

Successive governments of all parties have been content to allocate relatively small amounts of funding to Gaelic development, but nothing near what is required, while all governments of all parties have consistently failed to bring forward any new language rights that might drive greater spending. Specifically, for almost thirty years, Gaelic activists have been fighting for a parental right to Gaelic-medium education, and again and again, Scottish governments have simply refused meet our demands.

The Gaelic Language (Scotland) Act 2005 was itself the result of a long and impressive grass-roots campaign by Gaelic activists to ensure secure statis for the language, and a key element of that campaign was a call for a right to GME:

It is recommended that statutory provision be put in place requiring local authorities to make available Gaelic-medium school education where reasonable demand exists. It is recommended that ‘reasonable demand’ be defined to mean ‘demand made on behalf of five or more pupils’.

Comunn na Gàidhlig 1997

To activists’ great disappointment at the time, no such right was included in the act as legislated, and while GME has continued to slowly grow over the last 20 years, it is certain that provision would be far stronger now if we had a statutory right in place.

So, I would argue that there are clear tactical reasons to make our movement more about rights in the future, but I would also contend that the moral arguments are at least as compelling, particularly with regard to a right to GME. It is simply wrong that families in Glasgow, for instance, are being excluded from Gaelic education for their children. Scotland is more than wealthy enough to provide GME for any family that wants it. It is a scandal that it isn’t doing so already, but until we secure a clear, enforceable right to GME, we will keep running up against this same problem of anaemic funding and insufficient provision.

The consultation on the current draft of the Scottish Languages Bill will runs until the 8th of March. We have an opportunity now to argue for significantly strengthening the Bill before it comes before the Parliament for a vote, and I believe that we should continue to push hard for new rights in the legislation: a right to GME certainly, but  also perhaps new rights connected to the proposed areas of linguistic significance. This may be our last chance to influence legislation for Gaelic at this level for a generation, and I fear that if we don’t secure rights for Gaelic speakers now, we will spend another twenty years begging a reluctant establishment for cash for our increasingly threatened language.

Source: Comunn na Gàidhlig, Inbhe Thèarainte dhan Ghàidhlig (Inbhir Nis: Comunn na Gàidhlig, 1997)

PS: For a cool-headed and detailed discussion of the strengths and (considerable) weaknesses of the Scottish Languages Bill as it stands, check out Professor Wilson McLeod’s excellent recent article in Bella Caledonia: The Scottish Languages Bill: prospects for strengthening and challenges for implementation.

Air a phostadh ann an naidheachd | Sgrìobh beachd

Tòrr ceòl ùr Gàidhlig!

Tha mòran ceòl ùr air tighinn a-mach anns a’ Ghàidhlig o chionn greis. Chìthear a’ mheatailt dhubh aig Mòine shìos, agus seo barrachd: meatailt ùr bho Gun Ghaol. Fucan craicte.

Cuideachd, chaill mi e nuair a chur Balach an t-òran ùr seo suas, ach tha e uamhaidh roc-mhor. Dìreach sgoinneil.

Tha an stuth ùr seo a’ toirt misneachd dhomh. Tha e cho math fhaicinn. Mòran taing do Kathryn ‘Chraicte’ NicAoidh airson an toirt dham aire!

Air a phostadh ann an ceòl | Sgrìobh beachd

Mòine!

Dealbh le jurgafoto.lt

Bha mi aig taigh mo charaid Roddy madainn an-diugh, a’ gabhail brunch vegi, agus sheall e còmhlan Gàidhlig ùr dhomh, Mòine, a tha dìreach air EP a chur suas air Bandcamp. Tha iad sgoinneil! ’S e còmhlan de dhithis a th’ annta, giotàr agus drumaichean, a nì meatailt dhubh a tha an dà chuid àileach agus aognaidh. Tha iad a’ còrdadh rium gu mòr. B’ ann à Glaschu a tha iad, agus bu choltach gun robh a’ chiad chuirm aca aig an àm seo an-uiridh aig an 13th Note (nach maireann). Tha mi a’ dèanamh fiughair ri am faicinn beò!

Bandcamp
Istagram
TwitX

Air a phostadh ann an ceòl | Sgrìobh beachd

Austerity, Gaelic and Zero-Sum Reasoning

To save Gaelic, we have to have it all: thriving traditional communities, a right to Gaelic-medium education, dozens more all-Gaelic schools and the teachers to staff them, thousands of fluent new Gaelic speakers both young and old, a TV channel with a full program of new content every day, Gaelic research and scholarship of the highest quality, Gaelic cultural centres all over the country, a small army of well-paid Gaelic development officers, lavishly-funded Gaelic arts, music and literature, and much else.

There is no one tactic or target of Gaelic development that trumps all the others. Language revival is a wholistic process. You have to do everything all at once.

But of course, all of this costs money, not a lot of money in the grander scheme of things, but money nonetheless, and after forty years of neoliberalism dominating the political discussion in the UK, the surest way to argue against further Gaelic development is to do so using the language of austerity: to site its cost.

The argument typically goes something like this: “Gaelic is such a lovely, lyrical, ancient language, and we would truly like fund your Gaelic development project, but sadly there just isn’t enough money right now.”

This argument never changes. Boom times or bust, there is never enough money for Gaelic. Since Reagan and Thatcher, austerity thinking has become so deeply ingrained in our public discourse that politicians, journalists and economists simply regurgitate it as if it is self-evidently true.

But this argument is founded on a lie. The wish-list at the top of this post may seem completely pie-in-the-sky, but it is actually far more firmly grounded in reality than the austerity arguments against it. The UK is the sixth most wealthy country ever in the history of the world. We have more than enough wealth to save Gaelic. We are not poor.

So this argument is a trap. We can’t win by engaging with this argument on its own terms, and we certainly don’t want to internalize the zero-sum assumptions that underpin this argument and start debating each other about priorities, about what Gaelic development projects should be funded and what shouldn’t. Successful language revival movements go big. We can’t let the zero-sum thinking of austerity box us in. To save Gaelic we have to have it all — and we can. We don’t have to choose.

The truth is that the money we need to save Gaelic is tiny compared to government spending overall. The government can bring silly money to bear on a problem if politically compelled to do so, and a good example of this is the Gaelic school campaign in Edinburgh.

Parents in Edinburgh fought for more than 14 years with the City of Edinburgh Council, trying to compel them to set up a stand-alone Gaelic school, and opponents of the school, both inside and outside of the Council, often used the cost of the project and budgetary constraints as arguments against the proposal. In the end, the parents built the political pressure required to prevail, but only then did it come to light that the Council had so neglected the proposed school building that it would require millions extra to repair. The Council turned to the Scottish Government, and together, in a matter of months, they found the required money, because by then it would have been too politically painful to do otherwise.

So in spite of all the arguments, austerity was a lie. The money was always there. In a rich country like the UK, austerity is always a lie, so there is no point in engaging with austerity arguments directly. To win, we have to change the terms of debate. To win, we need take a step back and relentlessly attack the zero-sum assumptions that underpin these arguments: i.e. that a country as dizzyingly wealthy as Scotland is somehow too poor to save Gaelic.

When politicians, civil servants, or journalists revert to their knee-jerk practice of talking about “difficult economic times” or “tight budgetary constraints”, we, as Gaelic activists, need to keep coming back again and again to the fundamental truth that Scotland is a rich country and that we have more than enough money to save Gaelic.

Granted, many of the local politicians and civil servants who control the purses-strings do not have much revenue-raising power themselves, but that’s really not our problem. It is not our job as Gaelic activists to find the money. As Arthur Cormack pointed out when he was chairman of Bòrd na Gàidhlig, parents and other Gaelic activists are often called upon to develop detailed funding and business-plans for new schools or units, but this shouldn’t be our role.

And at the same time, there are larger arguments to be made against neoliberalism in general, about out-of-control wealth inequality, the need for a wealth tax and for more progressive taxation in general, but as important as these arguments are, again, most local politicians and civil servants don’t personally have much power to change how money is raised. It should be sufficient for us to simply point out that saving Gaelic in a country as wealthy as Scotland is not an extravagance and then to demand that they get on with it.

The Gaelic movement has never gotten anywhere by being reasonable, by talking sense and respecting the austerity discourse of the powers that be. That’s a chump’s game. We make progress by issuing demands and then building the political power to back up those demands.

With enough money, anything is possible, and we not poor. We have more than enough money in Scotland to save Gaelic.

Air a phostadh ann an naidheachd | 1 bheachd

A’ leagail nan rann ann am BÁC

Thug e beagan ùine dhomh faireachdainn deiseil gu bhith sgrìobhadh mun turas agam a Bhaile Átha Cliatha anns an t-Samhainn. Chan eil mi fiù ’s air bruidhinn cus ri Roddy mu dheidhinn fhathast, ged a chaidh sinn ann còmhla. Bha sinn cho sgìth nuair a thill sinn, agus bha an tachartas agus an turas cho craicte, cha chreid mi gun robh fios againn dè bha sinn a’ smaoineachadh mun rud nuair a fhuair sin air ais gar taighean ann an Slèite anmoch feasgar Didòmhnaich. Bha an dithis againn buileach am breislich.

Thòisich a h-uile rud mun àm seo an-uiridh. Fhuair mi brath bho Eoin P. Ó Murchú, eadar-theangaiche ACDD ann an Èirinn, gun robh e am beachd tachartas a chur air dòigh aig an fhèis litreachais Ghàidhlig ann am BÁC, IMRAM 2022, agus e a’ faighneachd an robh mi ag iarraidh pàirt a ghabhail ann. Mhìnich e gun robh e am beachd dealbh-cluiche, no leughadh dramataigeach, a dheasachadh às an nobhail, agus bu toil leis nan cluichinn beagan ceòl na chois. B’ e beachd inntinneach a bh’ ann, agus bha mi a’ caoidh nach robh cothrom againn bogadh ceart a dhèanamh air an eadar-theangachadh nuair a thàinig e a-mach an clò an toiseach, ri linn Covid, agus mar sin, dh’aontaich mi sa bhad.

B’ e an seòl a bh’ agam gun cuirinn còmhla ri chèile le mo charaidean agus gun cluicheamaid cuid dhe na seann òrain againn bhon chaochladh chòmhlan anns an robh sin nar buill rè nam bliadhnaichean: Mill a h-Uile Rud, Na Gathan, Là Luain, agus m.s.a.a. Bhruidhinn mi ri Roddy Neithercut is Kathryn NicAoidh, agus dh’aontaich iadsan, ach gu cearbach, mus robh cothrom againn ruith-thairis a chur air dòigh, fhuair Kathryn ròl anns an dràma Ghàidhlig ùr, an Clò Mòr, agus bha i a’ dol a bhith ro thrang. Bha Roddy is mi fhìn ann an staing. Cha robh sinn eòlach air drumair sam bith eile ann an Slèite a bha a cheart cho ròc-mhòr ri Kathryn.

A’ sporghail mun cuairt, a’ feuchainn ri beachd eile a lorg, thàinig e a-steach orm gum b’ urrainn dhan dithis againn feuchainn ri corra òran hip-hop a chur ri chèile. Cha do rinn sinn a leithid a-riamh, ach bhiodh e a’ dol leis a’ cheòl anns an nobhail fhèin, agus mar sin, gun chothrom eile againn, cheannaich mi Ableton Live, agus thòisich mi sampallan a shadail ri chèile.

Shaoil sinn an toiseach gun sgrìobhamaid mu cheithir no còig òrain dhan tachartas, ach dh’ionnsaich sinn dà rud gu luath: tha òrain hip-hop mòran nas fhaide na òrain punc, agus cuideachd, tha fada a bharrachd fhaclan ann an òrain hip-hop. Uil, duh!, is dòcha, ach thug e mòran na b’ fhaide na bha dùil againn na h-òrain a sgrìobhadh mar sin. Aig deireadh an t-samhraidh, 2022, cha robh ach dà òran deiseil againn, agus dh’fheumadh sin fòghnadh.

Tha mi air a bhith ag èisteachd ri hip-hop on a ràinig na ciad chlàran Seattle anns an ochdadan. Tha spèis mhòr agam dhen ghnè-chiùil, agus chan eil mi idir am measg na codach a chanadh, “Its just talking over music.” Thuig mi gu bheil hip-hop a cheart cho doirbh ri stoidhle-chiùil sam bith eile. Tha mòran sgil na luib, agus bha làn dùil agam gum biodh rapadh anns a’ Ghàidhlig dùbhlanach, ach cha robh mi idir an dùil ri cho doirbh ’s a bhiodh e dìreach a’ feuchainn ri na faclan uile fhaighinn air mo mheòmhair. Fad an fhoghair, suas gu latha na cuirme, bha Roddy is mi fhìn ag obair mar sheillein, a’ dol thairis air na rannan againn aig cothrom sam bith a lorgamaid: eadar clasaichean aig an t-Sabhal, fhad ’s a bha sinn a’ ruith, nar laighe san leabaidh air an oidhche, agus uair is uair is uair, anns a’ char a’ dràibheadh eadar Slèite agus BÁC.

Bha e 14 uair a thìde a’ siubhal ann. Dh’fhàg sinn mu shia, madainn Dihaoine, agus ràinig sinn BÁC mu ochd air an oidhche air an aon latha. Air an rathad, thog sinn bogsa lèintean-T ann an Glaschu a dhealbhaich Roddy agus a chleachdamaid mar chulaidh air an àrd-ùrlar.  Dh’fhuirich sinn ann an taigh-òsta dìreach ri taobh an ostail-òigridh anns an do dh’fhuirich mi a’ chiad uair a thàinig mi a BÁC ann an 1989, agus bha sin beagan os-fhiorach dhomh.

Chosg sinn mòran dhen ath latha a’ ruith thairis air an taisbeanadh aig an talla, Smock Alley, anns am Barra an Teampaill. Bha Eoin air taisbeanadh gu tur ùr-ghnathasach a chur ri chèile. Bha e air triùir chleasaiche fhastadh gus an leughadh/cleasachd a dhèanamh: Seán T Ó Meallaigh, Hilary Bowen Walsh, agus Eoin Ó Dhubhghaill, agus bha iadsan barraichte. Tha mi a’ smaoineachadh gun do lorg iad an tòna ceart dhan sgeulachd, agus bha mi air mo bheò-ghlacadh a’ coimhead orra ag obair. Cuideachd, bha Eoin air ealantair a chosnadh, Margaret Lonergan, a chruthaich taisbeanadh lèirsinneach a thilg i air a’ bhalla aig cùl an àrd-ùrlair agus a chuir eileamaid inntinneach eile ris an leughadh.

Uile gu lèir, ge-tà, ’s e fiosrachadh neònach a bh’ ann dhòmhsa, feumaidh mi aideachadh, a bhith ag èisteachd ri sgeulachd a chruthaich mi fhìn, ann an uaigneas m’ eanchainn fhìn, a-nis air a h-innse le daoine eile, daoine gu math tàlantach, leis an lèirsinn agus an eadar-mhìneachadh aca fhèin, agus ann an cànan eile cuideachd. Bha e àraid dhomh, agus rud beag òrraiseach, leis an fhìrinn innse, ach gu fortanach, cha robh mi an sin nam aonar. Bha Roddy còmhla rium, agus cuideachd, thàinig seann charaid agam à BÁC, David O’Connor, dhan tachartas, agus chosg sinn mòran ùine an dèidh na cuirme a’ bruidhinn mu na seann làithean mar dhithis bhodach. Thug sin air ais dhan talamh mi.

A thaobh an rap againn fhìn, saoilidh mi gun deach e glè mhath. Leag sinn na comhardaidhean againn gun mhearachd, agus fhuair sinn deagh bhualadh-boise an dèidh gach òran. Bha sinne gu math toilichte leis co-dhiù. San fharsaingeachd, tha mi a’ smaoineachadh gum b’ e mòr-shoirbheas a bh’ anns an taisbeanadh air fad, agus tha mi fhathast a’ gabhail iongnadh air cho ioma-thàlantach ’s a tha Eoin P. Ó Murchú, a bhith ga sgrìobhadh uile agus ga eagrachadh. Chan urrainn dhomh innse cho fortanach ’s a tha mi a’ faireachdainn gun do thagh Eoin an nobhail agam mar thionnsgnadh eadar-theangachaidh. Tha mi fada, fada na chomain.

An ath latha, dhràibh sinn air ais dhan Eilean Sgitheanach airson obair is chlasaichean tràth madainn Diluain. Bha sinn fucte, agus chuir e nar cuimhne a-rithist nach e pucairean òga a th’ annainn tuilleadh. An dèan sinn cuirm rap a-rithist? Chan eil fios agam. Tha mi fhathast a’ feuchainn ri mo cheann fhaighinn timcheall air an rud, ach bha e garbh spòrsail, agus tha mi toilichte gun do rinn sinn e.

Air a phostadh ann an naidheachd | Sgrìobh beachd

in-spreigeadh

Fhad ’s a bhios mi ag obair air an ath nobhail FS agam, bidh agam ri briathrachas a chruthachadh bho àm gu àm gus bun-bheachdan teicnigeach/saidheansail a chur an cèill, agus anns a’ bhlog seo, air uairibh, bu toil leam innse mu chuid dhe na taghaidhean a rinn mi, feuch dè tha sibhse a’ smaoineachadh umhpa.

Cha chreid mi gu bheil deagh fhacal againn anns a’ Ghàidhlig air instinct anns an t-seagh bhitheòlach, mhion-fhàsach. Tha Dwelly a’ moladh nàdar, agus tha sin a’ freagairt air instinct anns an t-seagh choitcheann, ach chan eil e a’ freagairt air a’ chiall theicnigeach, cha chreid mi, mar ghiùlan aig creutair a tha air a phrògramadh na eanchainn le mion-fhàs. Tha nàdar ro choitcheann anns an t-seagh seo. Chan eil anseotal.org.uk a’ moladh sìon, agus chan eil na Raghall MacLeòid agus Ruairidh MacThòmais anns an leabhar aca, Bith-Eòlas.

Mar sin, mholainn gun togar briathar air na freumhan Laidinn. Tha instinct a’ tighinn bho instinctus a tha a’ ciallachadh impulse, bho instinguere, na chothlamadh dhen ro-leasachan in- agus dhen ghnìomhair stinguere a tha a’ ciallachadh to prick. Tha mi a’ smaoineachadh gu bheil in-spreigeadh a’ riochdachadh na cèille seo gu math, agus ann an co-theagsa, saoilidh mi gu bheil a chiall reusanta soilleir bho eileamaidean.

Dè tha sibhse a’ smaoineachadh. Leigibh fios!

T-Rex ScottRobertAnselmo CC BY-SA 3.0.

Air a phostadh ann an corpas ficsean-saidheans | 4 beachd(an)