Songs of the Troubles: A Musical Exploration of the Conflict in Northern Ireland
Songs are more than just words and musical notes. They are a reflection of the life and times from when they byth of an IRA volunteer. But if you listen closely you might hear a bit of sly irony in the lyrics that suggests blind patriotism is in fact a terrible thing. Even though it was written with deep sympathies for the IRA and the nationalist cause the song has been taken up by many anti-nationalist for their cause. You might also recognize a similarity between Patriot Game and Bob Dylan's With God on Our Side. Though Dylan denies it, Behan claims his tune and lyrical structure were stolen and altered to fit Dylan’s anti-Vietnam ballad. To this day Dylan refuses to give credit to Behan or the Republican cause.
LILIBURLERO
By Richard Dyer Bennet
When we talk about the Republican cause we are talking about the ambition to make the northern tip of Ireland a separate nation, free from the United Kingdom. But not everyone in Ireland wants that, especially Protestants with Welsh and Scottish roots. They look back to the day the English King William of Orange soundly conquered the Irish Catholics. This song is a parody of the Irish reaction to news that the Irish had won their freedom. Listen for abusive name calling like taige, which referred to native Irish Catholics. Also listen for the refrain and name of the song, Liliburlero, a meaningless word meant to derided the Irish excitement of having a sovereign country.
Some Gaelic Irish find Liliburlero insulting, so with the BBC using it several times a day for years was like rubbing salt in the wound. And still today, The first few bars of Liliburlero precede the 3AM news bulletin.
THE ORANGE LILY-O
by Various Artists
Many Ulster songs refer back to the days when Protestant William of Orange conquered the Irish. The decisive battle took place at Boyne on the Eastern Coast of Ireland in the north. According to lore, King William wore into battle an orange lily which then became the symbol for English Loyalist in Ireland and the title of this song
RISING OF THE MOON
by The Clancy Brothers
After the Williamite War Catholics were made subservient to the English and their Welsh and Scottish stand-ins. The situation resulted in a number of unsuccessful uprising, one in 1641 and then another in 1798. The latter was put to verse and then to song. It's called Rising of the Moon and describes the meeting of the doomed souls carrying out their failed rebellion. It was written by John Keegan Casey.
THE VOLUNTEERS OF ULSTER
by Carol Paris and Cambuslang Britannia
The ballad was a very popular song type to which to write about the conflict. Almost always ballads were written to preserve the memory of events, people, or as in the next case, both. Ulster Volunteers is a simple song sung by Carol Paris that commemorates the 36th Ulster Division from Ireland who volunteered for WWI. They were was a major source of pride for loyalist who believed it was England's laws and armed forces that civilized the world--and Ireland.
A NATION ONCE AGAIN
by The Clancy Brothers
Voted the most popular song in the world in 2002 according to listeners of the BBC. A Nation Once Again was written by Thomas Osborne Davis.
OLD ORANGE FLUTE
By the Dubliners
A cleaver song about Bob Williamson and his flute that can only play the Loyalist song, Protestant Boys. Bob shocks his town and decides to marry a Catholic and is run out of town and moves north, flute in hand. Eventually Bob joins a Catholic choir but his unionist flute doesn't make many friends and is soon burned at the stake to the end playing "protestant boys."
BLACK AND TANS
by The Jolly Beggermen
There were several uprising scattered through the history of Ireland, but it wasn't until the Easter Uprising in 1916 that paramilitary groups became the dominate instrument of force. Chiefly republicans had the IRA and the British used the Royal Irish Constabulary, also know as the Black and Tans. The Black and Tans were a hastily trained reserve force recruited from the rowdy ranks of Englishmen returning from the first world war. They quickly earned a reputation of ruthlessness that was rarely ever disciplined. And by 1920 the Black and Tans actually sacked the city of Cork and burned to the ground nearly 300 buildings. The next song also written by Dominic Behan describes how his irascible and drunk father tried goading the Black and Tans into a fight
BANNA STRAND
by The Jolly Beggermen
Named after the beach where the weapons smuggler Rodger Casement was captured, this song tells the story of his ill-fated attempt to arm the IRA. Casement, who was once a diplomat for the United Kingdom, was eventually hanged for his crimes.
NELL FLARY’S DRAKE
by The Clancy Brothers
For the most part the songs from the Troubles can be taken at face value. But that can’t be said for the song called Nell Flarty's Drake. If we take it literally, the song is about a man wishing ruin on the person who killed his duck. A drake is of course a male duck, but in the 19th century it was also the word for cannon. Manny believe the song is not about a duck but rather code for the loss of a weapon's cache that ultimately foiled the 1803 uprising. The rebellion was orchestrated by Robert Emmet who was later hanged by the British. His final request was that no epitaph be written about him until Ireland became a free country. So instead we have this song about Nell Flarty's drake.
WIND THAT SHAKES THE BARELY
by The Clancy Brothers
The history of Ireland is also the history of many doomed rebellions. once such is remembered here in a song called the Wind that Shakes the Barley. The references to barley in the song derive from the fact that the rebels often carried barley oats in their pockets as provisions for when they were on the march. This gave rise to the post-rebellion phenomenon of barley springing up in the mass unmarked graves dead rebels were buried in.
Cubicle Contenders, How white-collar changed boxing in Brooklyn
October 3, 2006
Dragon Fire
by Charles Lane
If you squeeze the Mike Tyson fighting machine into Woody Allen's body, you get a scrawny Jewish man with a rapid-fire jab and glasses that forever slip off his nose. Meet David Lawrence: investment broker, poet and literature teacher turned pro boxer.
I first encounter David as he lounges in the back of the dim office he shares with the other trainers at Gleason’s boxing gym in Brooklyn, New York. Through the window behind him, I can see the Brooklyn Bridge and the East River under a bruised sky. The murky outside backlights David as he leans into the chair and stretches his legs out all the way across the narrow office to the desk on the other side.
He is sweaty, heaving in fact, and wearing a wife-beater undershirt, his two skinny arms dangling toward the dingy floor. His hands are still wrapped in boxers’ tape so that, whenever he pushes his glasses back up his nose, he is forced to use his entire hand, making it look as if he’s punching himself in the face.
Outside David’s office is a din of rattling chains and blunt leather-on-leather thuds. This takes place in a 15,000-square-foot [1,394-square-meter] open room with supporting concrete columns and ancient wooden rafters. In the center is a round clock that buzzes three times every four minutes. There is a thick stench of sweat and not much air circulation. Gleason’s is the iconic boxing gym, gritty and dark, with florescent lights that flicker on and off like the lights in a deserted subway station.
Actually, you’ve probably already seen pictures of Gleason’s in the movies or in a magazine ad because, according to owner Bruce Silverglade, the gym has been in well over 200 films, TV commercials and photo shoots. (Take another look at Midnight Run and Raging Bull.) Silverglade has just co-authored a new boxing workout book for women with a forward by Hilary Swank.
“Most of the people I train now are white-collar boxers,” David says, referring to the urban professionals now flooding Gleason’s.
As a trainer, David has seen a dramatic shift in who comes into the gym everyday. Boxing has long been thought of as a sport for the underclass, in which street fighters could pick themselves up by the bootstraps by hitting it big in the ring. Sports commentator Jimmy Cannon called it the “the red light district of sports.” Now, 75% of the 900 boxers at Gleason’s are considered white-collar, amateur fighters, and about one-fourth of all members are women. Many of them work in Manhattan’s financial district, which is only two subway stops away. They come seeking a grittier, more authentic atmosphere than they might find by taking a boxing class at an upscale gym like New York Sports Club or Bally’s. Because they have brought money as well as enthusiasm into the ring, they have helped change both the image and the economics of Brooklyn boxing.
The trend started around 1990 with a few serious amateurs who wanted to get more authentic ring time but didn’t have time to compete in events like the golden gloves.
“We had the idea to organize these fights which we called white-collar,” David explains. “We had them once a month and we charged admission, and the guys would bring their family and co-workers. It was a way to make money.”
By word of mouth, these fights steadily gained in popularity until a string of movies in the mid ’90s stirred popularity that begat even more movies and books and more white-collar people coming to the gym. They are lawyers, business moguls, dental hygienists, middle managers and even Broadway actresses.
“The business people want to stay in shape, and boxing is a great exercise.” He lets out a geeky yuck and adds, “It’s also cool to say you box. You know, it’s not like a weightlifting gym where you do the same thing and what you do is build stress.”
Last November, New York State government officials put the kibosh on the white-collar matches, calling them dangerous and citing a lack of regulation. Gleason’s employees are hoping the state legislature will pass a law exempting white-collar boxing from the state regulations governing other amateur boxing matches by the end of the year. In the meantime, the white-collar population continues to train and to support the gym.
David says the release from the everyday is a strong draw for the white-collar crowd. “They want this because they don’t have to think. Look, I have a PhD. I have a lot of intellectual baggage. If I bring that into the ring, I’m going to get killed.”
David’s own path from nerdy investment broker to gritty boxer was a meandering one. He earned his PhD in literature from the City University of New York (CUNY) Graduate Center in 1976. Early in his career, he struggled to find steady work as a professor, so he started selling obscure insurance policies as investments. By the time he was 39, he was a millionaire riding in a chauffeured Rolls Royce and facing charges of tax evasion that ultimately resulted in two years in jail, where he wrote poetry and started to box. (To this day, David maintains his innocence.) When he got out of jail, David boxed professionally to some success – four wins and two losses with three K.O.’s – but mostly now he trains other fighters.
Gleason’s most famous alums include Jake La Motta (a part-time mobster who came to boxing after his father forced him to street fight for coins in the Bronx slums), Roberto Duran (grew up penniless in the Panamanian streets as the illegitimate son of a U.S. solider), Larry Holmes (entered the ring as an illiterate petty criminal) and Mike Tyson (left a broken home for New York’s juvenile detention centers until he was finally adopted by his trainer).
The gym’s history is just as salty. It was founded in 1937 by Bobby Gleason, who changed his name from Gagliardi in order to fit in with the Irish working class fight fans of the day. The original gym opened in the Bronx in a rundown building with occasional running-water and members who just as occasionally paid membership dues. Gleason subsidized the gym for years by moonlighting as a cabbie. After a series of moves and owners, the gym now resides under the Brooklyn Bridge in Fulton Ferry, a musty neighborhood quickly becoming more expensive.
Looking around, you can see the dichotomy of where white-collar is meeting blue-collar for the first time. Gleason’s is on the second floor of a converted warehouse that used to be part of the rundown waterfront, which is now undergoing a major facelift and attracting upscale stores. There’s a new Starbucks down the street and a gourmet spice shop around the corner. Inside the gym, there are pockets of items that seem out of place: gleaming white posters for a “fantasy boxing camp” decorate dingy concrete walls. There are T-shirts and bottles of Evian water for sale.
David says the spruced up clientèle has helped keep Brooklyn boxing in business. Not only have the matches brought funds to Gleason’s, but individual enthusiasts have helped support the careers of pros they’ve befriended in the gym, volunteering both cash and services.
“They’re good – good for the gym,” David says. “A lot of gyms have closed. Gleason’s would have closed if it weren’t for the white-collar fighters. They bring in a lot of money and they support the boxers.”
Chrissy Beckles, a trainer and manager at Gleason’s, agrees that support is essential to the gym.
“Twenty years ago, there were 150 boxing gyms in New York. Now all but eight have closed. They have been really good to boxing,” she says, indicating the white-collar supporters. Chrissy sits next to the chessboard at the front door, checking people in and out.
“Not only do they support the gyms,” she says while taking memberships dues from a dental hygienist who smells of cigarette smoke, “but they also help the pros who don’t always come from well-off backgrounds. They’re so enamored with the sport that they help out the pro fighters financially if they’ve been injured.”
Running her finger through the list of gym members, Chrissy rattles off the benefits white-collar boxers bring to the pro boxers. “We have doctors who come in and help the ones without insurance. Then there’s the dentist and also a chiropractor who helps. We have lawyers and accountants who give free advice. The list is endless.”
With all the good things white-collar boxers have done for the sport, Chrissy admits their presence did call for one modification. Chrissy says they had to make their white-collar matches so there were no winners or losers in order to keep people from becoming discouraged. After a white-collar fighter checks out, she turns and says: “They aren’t very good losers. How do you tell a Wall Street hotshot they just lost a fight? So we don’t. We let them both win.”
I take a tour of the gym, and it’s apparent that boxing is in the middle of a shift. David’s white-collar fighters are easy to pick out. They are less physically imposing than the pros. They smile easily and are prone to standing around chatting.
Phil Mayor’s story is common. He’s 49 with a well-paying, yet monotonous job as a judge for municipal unions. Trim and good-looking, Phil has soft hands and skinny legs accustomed to running long distances, an exercise he did before boxing and before he got divorced.
“Going through a divorce isn’t very pleasant,” Phil tells me between breaths, as he hits a 200-pound heavy bag. “One day I said, ‘I gotta get out of the house,’ and coming here was a good release. It’s a good way to get anger out by hitting the bag.”
Before the divorce, the most aggressive Phil ever got was basketball. “Now people punch my face,” he says with a grin. “My ex-wife thought it was just a mid-life crisis.”
Phil goes back to hitting the bag. He punches and steps to the side, creating an adept-looking rhythm. He gets the bag swinging back and forth until finally he attempts to hit the bag as it swings back in his direction, which buckles his wrist and knocks him off balance. He looks at me uncomfortably from the corner of his eye, and I move along to save us both an embarrassing moment.
On the other side of the gym under a row of speed bags is Carl Weiner, a garment industry inspector who is also going through a divorce. As he tells it, he was moping through the streets when he saw a sign for a boxing gym. “I came up and said ‘I want to learn how to hit a speed bag.’ I was 65 years old, overweight and never did anything like this before. They said, ‘OK, give us time.’”
Carl is balding with a large belly, a gold watch and two grown children. I ask him about the purpose of hitting the melon-sized punching bag, and he shrugs.
“I haven’t figured out the point of this entire exercise. They just tell me what to do and I do it.” After hitting the bag some more he adds, “I just always wanted to do it. I saw it on T.V. and it look like something I wanted to do, and why not do it here at a world famous gym?”
Bob Jackson is one of the gym’s best-known trainers, a former corrections officer who keeps a loaded pistol clipped to the belt under his bulging stomach.
“You never know when you’ll need it,” he said about the gun. “The one time I took it off and put it in the locker, someone tried to steal it.”
In his office, Bob speaks with a harsh and gravelly voice that he uses to stoke his fighters. Like him, most came to boxing from street fighting. Some are in and out of trouble with the law, and most piece together a living with several part-time jobs.
“These guys are just looking for something productive to do,” Bob says. He looks at four fighters surrounding him with fondness.
“Tell him what you do, Elvis,” Bob says to a young man slouched in the corner.
“I have like four jobs. I work at Babies ‘R’ Us as a furniture salesman. I sell shoes. I’m trying to finish school, and I’m a boxer.” Elvis Cyone is heavily tattooed with gold caps on his visible teeth. He doesn’t romanticize how he came to boxing: “I just like to fight. I don’t know why, I just like it.”
When I ask Bob about the appeal of fighting, his voice turns sweet and the office gets very still. “Boxing is the most pure thing there is. It’s two men, nearly naked, standing in the ring trying to outdo the other.” Bob pauses to look at the boys perched around him, waiting for the words to come out of his mouth. Wagging a slow finger he says, “only one man can win, only the strongest and most disciplined. That’s why you have to be the best.”
When I broach the subject of white-collar boxing, Bob turns gruff and the boys sneer.
“You mean civilians?” Everyone chuckles, “Yeah, I train them too. I didn’t want to at first. But they help keep the gym open and make it so I can train these guys.” He indicates the pros around him.
Sal Musumeci is a boxing promoter who works with Bob. “Boxing has this bad image. Boxers are criminals and illiterate. It’s changing.” Sal says the driving force behind the change are the new white-collar fans.
Among promoters, Sal is a small fish. Most of his shows are local and don’t attract ESPN or HBO, so he relies on support from the community, mainly the business community and working professionals who have extra money and an interest in boxing.
“These people are going to change boxing,” Sal says. “If this sport is going to survive, we need people like them."
Voice of the Troubles: 25 Years After the Irish Hunger Strike
Listen to part 1 here
Part 2
Part 3
25 years ago 10 prisoners in Northern Ireland went on hunger strike. They all died over a period of four months and the longest went without food for 73 days. To Catholic nationalists, these men died for Irish freedom. But to Protestant loyalist, they were common criminals.
The hunger strike represented the peak of the Troubles in Ireland. As they died one by one, thousands took to the streets worldwide to protest. The conflict in Northern Ireland is a depressing example of unresolved conflict, one we see repeated now as as Israel invades Lebanon and American families learn of dying sons and daughters in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Bobby Sands (5 May, 66 days)
Francis Hughes (12 May, 59 days)
Patsy O’Hara (21 May, 61 days)
Raymond McCreesh (21 May, 61 days)
Joe McDonnell (8 July, 61 days)
Martin Hurson (13 July, 46 days)
Kevin Lynch (1 Aug, 71 days)
Kieran Doherty (2 Aug, 73 days)
Thomas McElwee (8 Aug, 62 days)
Michael Devine (20 Aug, 60 days)
The first person to go on hunger strike was Bobby Sands.
Sands was born in Abbots Cross, though his family moved from town to town because of intimidation by Protestant loyalists. However, it’s not even clear if Sands was a Catholic. His last name was derived from a paternal grandfather who was a Protestant. Regardless, Sands was forced from his job at gunpoint by loyalists and in 1972 he joined the Irish Republican Army.
Many consider the IRA a terrorist group guilty of atrocities almost too graphic for words. Pulling out teeth, plucking fingernails, removing tattoos with a knife, removing genitals and stuffing them in the victim's mouth. 
Others had concrete blocks dropped on their bodies to break and crush their limbs. In some cases the victims claimed to have been force-fed drugs to keep them conscious in order to prolong the suffering. Bodies were often stripped naked and left on the roadside, some boobytrapped in order to kill other members of the security forces.
These scenes will come to repeat themselves in other parts of the world.
To combat the violence the British government planned Operation Demetrius, or Internment. IRA suspects were seized from their homes in the middle of the night and taken to secret prisons where they were subjected to the so-called “five techniques.” 
The five techniques were wall-standing, hooding, subjection to noise, deprivation of sleep, and deprivation of food and drink. Medical reports later showed that these practices had negative effects on the detainees physical and especially mental health.
The European Court of Human Rights would not call Internment torture but many Irish nationalists did. Both sides of the conflict in Northern Ireland clamored for propriety over the truth. Both sides killed for it while a foreign army tried desperately to keep the peace.
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Musical credits: The Jolly Beggermen, Mark Gunn, Anuna, The Brobdingnogian Barbs, Ray Fisher, and Maire Ni Bhraonain
An Interview with Gerry Adams
WSHU
March 15, 2006
Charles Lane
St. Patrick’s Day is well known for shamrocks, green beer, and even green rivers. But this year the Irish government wanted it to be known as a day of peace. Sinn Fein leader Gerry Adams came to New York this week to deliver that message. Though his trip has been marked with controversy.
Extended audio on conflict
Long Island’s Fight for Charity
WSHU
January 20, 2006
Charles Lane
Last week was the 3rd annual Long Island’s Fight for Charity, a boxing match pitting white collar professionals against each other in an effort to raise money for local charities. But as Charles Lane explains the event became tangled in controversy.
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