Ireland is not merely a nation with its own language, customs, literature and art. It is also a nation with its own society and institutions. Looking at the society and institutions in place in the south of Ireland today, one would be forgiven for thinking that the Irish/English nations are near identical. In fact, the institutions used by the Irish state are merely English ones transplanted to Ireland. They may have been given Gaelic names: the Irish parliament may be called the Dáil (as was the National Assembly of 1919), and the Prime Minister may be called Taoiseach, but English institutions in Ireland may be said to act the same no matter who controls them.
Gaelic society survived in one form or another up to the Cromwellian settlement of the 1640s, though the policy of Henry the Eight some 110 years previously as well as the "Flight of the Earls" in 1607 both had a huge impact on the Gaelic state, bringing it close to death. The Gaelic system of government centred around small units called tuaithe. Each tuatha was an area of land with its own Rí, a word often translated as King, though the power of the Ríg did not reflect the strong power given to foreign Kings. For the Gaels, their tuatha was the centre of all their social and public life. Though today an Irishman looks to one city as the centre of Irish public life, the Gael need only look as far as his own tuatha. In the 700 years or so leading up to the coming of the Normans from England in 1169, there were probably never less than 150 Ríg of various grades at any one time.
The hierarchy of the time meant that a tuath was part of a mór-tuath (three or four tuaithe), which in turned joined together to form a cóiced, each cóiced (Munster, Ulster, Connaught, Leinster and Meath) forming Ireland as a whole unit. Every tuath, mór-tuath and cóiced had its own Rí, though no matter what grade of Rí they were, they ultimately were still the leader of one small tuatha aswell. Despite this hierarchy, decisions and power still lay largely close to the Gaelic people, decision making seeping upwards only in small amounts to the higher ranking Ríg, the mirror image of our modern system where power is held at the top and only seeps down to the Irish people in small amounts. Although a local Rí may be subservient to the Rí of Caiseal or Teamhair (Tara) for example, this made little difference to the ordinary Gaels who looked to their own Rí for leadership.
The Rí did not inherit his position from his father as the eldest male in the family, as is often the case for Kings. The Gaels elected their leader democratically. Canditates were drawn from the Fine (roughly translated as extended family, a large family group from which the King could be chosen), and were voted upon by all the freemen of the tuath, from the small farmer up. To again show that the Rí was no simple King, contrast Gaelic Ireland with their English neighbours: there, sovereignty was given to one man, the King, for him to use to rule his subjects. On the other hand, the Gaelic Rí only had such powers as the Commander General of the tuatha's warriors in times of war, and only as the political leader in times of emergency such as plague. More often, decisions were made at the tuatha's Óenach, where the local freemen got together to make decisions, trade, have sporting contests and the craic generally. Although the Rí presided over the Óenach, he could only ratify those decisions made by his electors. The Rí did have power to negotiate with neighbouring Ríg aswell, but it is obvious that in Gaelic Ireland, power rested largely in the hands of the Irish people, certainly not in any distant individual leader.
The Rí was often obliged to make war alongside the mór-rí of his mór-tuatha, and also to give him tributes. Despite this, a tuatha's practical independence was rarely interfered with from above. It is amazing how all Ireland was able to split into these relatively autonomous tuatha's, while preserving such cultural oneness. Ireland had at that time a class of men call the Aés Dana, or men of arts, Gaelic Ireland's educated poets, druids, bards and chroniclers. These men passed down the Gaelic way of life and traditions throughout centuries, until they were finally exterminated in the 1600s. In such high esteem were they held, that the highest ranking of them, the Ollam, was equal in rank to the Rí himself. The laws passed down by this group was call Fénechas, what we know as Brehon laws.
Darrell Figgis, who wrote in the 1910s on the need to create an Irish constitution on Gaelic lines, noted that the Fénechas laws were not dreamt up by politicians bargaining and compromising in a parliament, or even by some prince's dictatorial whim. The laws came from years of decisions reached by the Brehons on cases which were brought before them, and so gave practical remedial solution to problems of both a criminal and civic nature, and to the satisfaction of all involved. Figgis believed strongly in a Gaelic Ireland for the modern age, but could not use his influential position on the committee which drafted the Freestate constitution to do so. 'Ireland has fought,' he wrote, 'long against England with no other hope than to make another England of Ireland. That is only to break a political union to make a union of ideals.' It begs the question today: Is Ireland more English today (due to 'a union of ideals') than it was under political union?
In Figgis' mind, Ireland was worthy of, and deserved, its uniquely Gaelic Irish institutions of state. To make a new Gaelic Ireland (rather than merely aping the Westminster model of parliament) was 'to construct an Irish state out of the practical experience of life, and to oppose English civilisation …with a distinctive Irish concept of civilisation that has some hope for the future of Irishmen.
Other nationalists of the time all believed in the need for the Gaelic state, such as Æ (George Russell), and James Connolly. Connolly, a socialist, often made enemies in socialist circles for his nationalist views, and famously when he defended both religion and the role of the family against America's leading socialist, Daniel de Leon. Connolly saw in Ireland's Gaelic past a new Gaelic future, and famously wrote that even 'if you remove the English army tomorrow and hoist the green flag over Dublin Castle" it would be of no use unless the Irish were willing to employ the principles 'which underlay the social structure of Ancient Erin.
Connolly could not view those Irishmen who claimed to be nationalists, but who depended on England or an English system for their wealth, wealth gained at the expense of the poorest of their Irish countrymen. That English system depended on the extinction of the Gaelic system, and by upholding that English system, the so-called nationalists were injuring both Irishmen and women, and the Gaelic way of life.
Ancient Ireland had many glories and riches which we have inherited in music, art, stories and customs. Her Gaelic institutions should too be placed among those treasures for us to study, preserve and cultivate. I have only given here the very bones of the institutions of Gaelic Ireland, and have been forced to ignore many features which further reading will uncover to you. By studying how our ancestors ran the nation, so too can we find a manner in which to revitalize Gaelic life in Ireland. Currently, Gaelic culture can only survive as long as it is profitable for the economic and political system. Ireland has a choice: use the systems of other western countries and become western; or, use the Gaelic system and become Gaelic. It is up to us to study our Gaelic traditions, and Gaelic ways, to ensure their survival.
