When is a tongue not a tongue?

While it's always sad when a language passes, and every effort should be made to preserve our linguistic diversity, sometimes it may right to view the apparent 'birth' of a new tongue with some suspicion. I say 'birth' as I, and most folk it seems, had never heard of Ulster-Scots or 'Ullans' until recent years.

There are some who feel that it is the latest figment of the Ulster Unionist imagination. After all, the 'Ulster Scots' in the north of Ireland were very happy being Irish when Queen Victoria visited in the 19th Century. Indeed, the good Protestants hung banners that read 'Céad Míle Fáilte'.

Certainly, I'd always understood that many of the Protestant 'settlers' to Ireland came from parts of Scotland - such as Galloway - that were Scottish (Gàidhlig) speaking at the time. Protestant church services in Irish continued on the east coast of Ulster until the 1920s. Further:

With their Scottish Gaelic links, the Ulster Presbyterians were in a position to evangelise
the Irish from an early date. Scottish Gaelic-speaking ministers arrived to minister to
communities of Presbyterians who spoke the language; for example, two came to
minister to the Gaelic communities on Inishowen in the seventeenth century. Others came as army chaplains in the 1640s. Some Presbyterian ministers found Ireland more
attractive that remote parts of Scotland, and some ministers who fell out of favour in
Scotland made their way to Ireland. Gaelic-speaking Scottish ministers also came to
Ireland as they were suspected of being Jacobites in Scotland.

A History of Protestant Irish Speakers

Wiki also give us this:

There are at least two Orange Lodges in Northern Ireland which represent the heritage and religious ethos of Saint Patrick. The best known is the Cross of Saint Patrick LOL (Loyal Orange lodge) 688,^[69] instituted in 1968 for the purpose of (re)claiming Saint Patrick. The lodge has had several well known members, including Rev Robert Bradford MP who was the lodge chaplain who himself was killed by the Provisional IRA, the late Ernest Baird. Today Nelson McCausland MLA and Gordon Lucy, Director of the Ulster Society are the more prominent members within the lodge membership. In the 1970s there was also a Belfast lodge called Oidhreacht Éireann (Ireland's Heritage) LOL 1303, which argued that the Irish language and Gaelic culture were not the exclusive property of Catholics or republicans.^[70]

Personally, I can remember songs from both 'sides' at football matches in 1980s Scotland and ugly as they were, English was the medium.

And so, we have this from An Sionnach Fionn:

The Ulster-Scots Agency or Boord o Ulstèr-Scotch was set up as part of the negotiations surrounding the Irish Peace Process of the late 1990s. Its purpose was to assuage the “ethno-nationalist” demands of the most militantly separatist political leaders of the British Unionist minority in the north-east of Ireland by giving them an official body to promote the dialect of English known as Irish-Scots which they claimed as their own. Representing a hybrid mix of Scots-English, Hiberno-English and Anglicised Irish this regional patois was supposedly spoken by several thousand people at the time of the Belfast Agreement of 1998 (though in fact when the EU sent an investigative team of academics to chart the language they were unable to find a single native speaker). The Agency’s purpose was to serve, protect and promote the language with joint funding from the nation-states of Ireland and Britain.

It could've been worse I guess. The Anglo-Saxon tongue could've adopted 'Irish' as a name and then identity crisis really would have ensued.

Auld Songs for Scottish Studies: Fichead Bliadhna

Surely it is a human right for children to be educated about their own nation and culture, especially if part of their indigenous culture is a marginalised one. I have long wished for Scottish education to come up with something like 'Scottish Studies', if only to counteract the ignorance that regularly surfaces in our media regarding Scotland and her history and culture. This naked and shameless ignorance was this week displayed by two of our politicians - one a Tory and the other claiming to be a Scottish nationalist.

Gaelic was never spoken here...

Jackson Carlaw, a candidate for the leadership of the Toxic Party in Scotland and SNP MSP Paul Wheelhouse - that's him above with more hair than historical accuracy - both claimed that Gaelic was 'never' spoken in the south of Scotland. No evidence was offered for this probably because all evidence points to Gaelic being spoken throughout the Lowlands at one point or another. For example it was spoken in parts of Galloway until the 1700s with the last Gaelic speaker of Carrick reputed to be a Margaret McMurray who lived until the time of Robert Burns' birth. It survived on Lomondside, Stirlingshire, Aberdeenshire and Perthshire until recent decades. Despite this Wheelhouse oiled the wheels of the Scottish-cringe bandwagon and Carlaw gleefully hauled his rotund frame aboard with his usual baggage of ignorance and bigotry to deride Scotrail for having the nerve to put Scottish language on their station signs. And all this... in Scotland!

Can't these tax-paying rebellious Scots be crushed or something? Or else, could some lackey burn down their houses again and hoof them off to Canada? Certainly, Carlaw is regarded as something of a 'loose cannon', even amongst Tories, and has form on the racist front.

...nor here.

Whatever, its a topic that's been oft covered here. Most of the opposition to Scottish kids learning about Scotland has unsurprisingly come from Labour and Tory. Is the 'Union' so worth saving that it means that ordinary Scots will be impoverished because of tribal party loyalty? Paul Wheelhouse proves though that ignorance and stupidity is not the preserve of one party.

This auld sang is very apt. Runrig again. It lays bare the attitudes of the Anglicised education system in Scotland until at least the 1970s. The process that started in the 1600s when Inglis was renamed 'Scots' and Scottish as 'Gaelic' reached its nadir during a century of clearance aimed primarily at the Celtic or 'Erse' speaking population. The bitterness of those in power towards the 'barbarity' of the indigenous Scots language and its speakers continued after the Clearances with Gaelic speaking children variously having skulls hung around their necks, being belted or caned or just being ridiculed. As a policy, it was very effective. Even in areas of Scotland that were Gaelic speaking within the past century, some locals will confidently tell you that 'Gaelic was not spoken here'. Even some older Gaels still wonder at why people would actually want to learn Gaelic.

This was Runrig's 'Another Brick in the Wall' and it was born of first-hand experience. Even to some Scots, we are just Porridge Wogs. Fichead Bliadhna...

Ruith's a mhonadh
Ruith nam beann
'S mar sin dhan sgoil aig deireadh samhraidh
'Nar clann
Aig coig bliadhna dh'aois
'S gun facal Beurla 'nar ceann

Seo do leabhar
Sea do pheann
"Dean do leasan," thuirt iad riumsa
" 'S gunn eirich sibh suas anns an t-saoghal
'S gheibh sibh an adhart ann

Fichead bliadhna'airson firinn
B'fheudar dhomh feitheamh
'S b'fheudar dhomh lorg
Fichead bliadhn' de bhreugan
Thug iad eachdraidh air falbh bhuainn

Dh'ionnsaich sinn a leithid ann
Canan's bardachd, bardachd Bheurla
Ceol na Gearmailt
Eachdraidh na Spainnt
'S b'e sin an eachdraidh mheallt

Bhon sgoil do'n oilthigh chaidh sinn ann
A' leantail foghlum, tuilleadh foghlum
Mar amadan air deiradh streang
Seorsa de dh'fhoghlum 'nam cheann

Fichead bliadhna'airson firinn
B'fheudar dhomh feitheamh
'S b'fheudar dhomh lorg
Fichead bliadhn' de bhreugan
Thug iad eachdraidh air falbh bhuainn

Ach dh'eirich mi suas anns an t-saoghal
Fhuair mi deise, 's fhuair mi leine
Fhuair mi aite ann an suilean dhaoin
Fada bhon mhonadh mi'n drasd

Carson a chùm iad eadchraidh bhuainn
Innsidh mi dhut, tha iad gealltach
Mas èirich clann nan Gaidheal suas
Le ceistean sireach is cruaidh

Fichead bliadhna'airson firinn
B'fheudar dhomh feitheamh
'S b'fheudar dhomh lorg
Fichead bliadhn' de bhreugan
Thug iad eachdraidh air falbh bhuainn

Nuair a thoisich mi air lorg
Cha do chreid mi mo shuilean
Obair olc

Freedom of the moor
Freedom of the hill
And then to school at the end of summer
Children,
Five years of age,
Without many words of English

"Here is your book
Here is your pen”
Study hard that's what they told me
"And you will rise up in the world
You will achieve"

Twenty years for the truth
I had to wait
I had to search
Twenty years of deceit
They denied me knowledge of myself

I learned many things
The English language, the poetry of England
The music of Germany
The history of Spain
And even that was a misleading history

Then on to further education
Following education, more education
Like puppets on the end of a string
Our heads filled with a sort of learning

Twenty years for the truth
I had to wait
I had to search
Twenty years of deceit
They denied me knowledge of myself

And I did rise in the world
I found my suit, I found my shirt
I found a place in the eyes of men
Well away from the freedom of the moor

But why did they keep our history from us?
I'll tell you they are frightened
In case the children of Gaeldom awaken
With searching and penetrating questions

Twenty years for the truth
I had to wait
I had to search
Twenty years of deceit
They denied me knowledge of myself

"Many a thing I have seen in my own day and generation. I have seen the townships swept, and the holdings being made of them. The people being driven out of the countryside to the streets of Glasgow and to the wilds of Canada, such as them that did not die of hunger and plague and smallpox while going across the ocean. I have seen the women putting the children in the carts which were being sent from Benbecula and the Iochdar to Loch Boisdale, while their husbands lay bound in the pen and were weeping beside them, without power to give them a helping hand, though the women themselves were crying aloud and their little children wailing like to break their hearts. I have seen the big strong men, the champions of the countryside, the stalwarts of the world, being bound on Loch Boisdale quay and cast into the ships as would be done to a batch of horses or cattle in the boat. The bailiffs and the constable and the policemen gathered behind them in pursuit of them. The God of life and He only knows all the loathsome work of men on that day."