A barricade in Townsend Street, Dublin 1916. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

3,056 words

On Easter Monday, 1916, after hundreds of years of living under English rule, the Irish rose up against their oppressor. What became known as the Easter Rising (also the Easter Rebellion) lasted six days, and is still a source of pride to the fighting Irish. It was a bloody affair. Most of the leaders of the rebellion, men such as Thomas Plunkett and James Connolly, were executed, and hundreds of rebels were interned both in Ireland and England. Many died in the conflict, including heavy losses on the English side. Those redcoats learned what a lot of people have learned since; if you are going to fight an Irishman, you had better be good with your fists.

The English at the time were somewhat distracted by the small matter of World War 1—then just the “Great War”—in which Ireland participated (although they remained neutral in World War 2, like the Swedes). But the British army spared enough men and materiel to put down the rebels with their usual brutal efficiency. Despite this defeat, the Easter Rising was a major factor in the Irish Declaration of Independence of 1918. But were those brave and rebellious Irishmen alive today, they could be forgiven for wondering why they bothered.

Now, the oppressor of the Irish is not the English but their own government. Ireland itself—or Éire, to give its Gaelic name—is still under rule from abroad, as it is a part of the EU. The Irish were offered a vote similar to the 2016 Brexit vote in the UK, and they opted to leave. Elections are not quite the same under EU rule, however. Like the Dutch, the Irish were forced to vote again until they got the right answer. Eventually, they voted to remain, more or less under duress. What the globalists want, they usually get, and they do not want independent nation-states. This forced choice to remain in the EU means that the Irish are party to the Schengen Agreement, which in turn means open borders between signatory countries. This is the reason migrants can travel across Europe to the UK unimpeded, with each country on the way happy to speed the hordes of fighting-age men (rarely are there any women or children) through their territory and point them in the direction of the UK. There is a fallacious belief that these migrants are obliged to apply for asylum in the first country they reach which is not at war, but this is not the case, and is lazy journalism of which the Dissident Right are as guilty of as the mainstream media.

The standard route from whatever Islamic hell-holes spawn these creatures requires a passport while travelling across Europe, but migrants throw their documentation and telephones into the English Channel on the last leg of their journey to the UK. But, even though Britain is a land of milk and honey for these chancers, many are increasingly continuing their journey to Ireland, where benefits, free housing, and preferential treatment over the native Irish are even more generous than they are in England. As a part of the UK, no passport is required to travel from England to Northern Ireland, and from there the migrants simply walk across the largely unguarded border to Ireland itself. There, as in the UK, they are housed, given benefits, and fast-tracked to Irish citizenship. There are many videos of grinning blacks parading their new passports, with its famous Irish harp on the cover. As in England, anything which can be used to taunt the Irish will be used.

You can buy Greg Johnson’s The White Nationalist Manifesto here

The native Irish are regularly attacked in the street by migrants. Girls are sexually assaulted, followed home, and many are now too scared to go out of doors. When locals in a pleasant Irish village dare to complain, there is suddenly a police presence not seen when migrants are involved in crime, and pepper-spray and batons are used indiscriminately on young and old alike. The Irish natives are being priced out of the housing market, itself under strain from the endless flow of immigrants. Over 100,000 immigrants a year have arrived in Ireland over the last decade. The government is keen to point out that net migration is around 60,000 a year, as many people are also leaving (having had enough of becoming the Third World) but that is a very misleading statistic. Those leaving Ireland tend to be the young Irish, unable to find work at home, and unable to buy property in an inflated market. Many of them move to Australia, a net gain for the former British penal colony, and a net loss for the Emerald Isle. Ireland’s population is around 5.5 million people, and losing 1% of its youth every year will soon have disastrous effects on both the economy and the social character of Ireland.

Those of you who have visited Ireland won’t need telling what a beautiful country it is, and what wonderful people it contains. I have visited Dublin three times, and I have never been anywhere with a nicer atmosphere (and better Guinness) or warmer people, even towards the old enemy. There are strong ties between Ireland and America, and American politicians are notorious for stressing their Irish ancestry. Bill Clinton couldn’t shut up about his supposed Irish roots, kissing the Blarney Stone and all that ballocks. That said, Slick Willie was less keen on visiting Ireland for a photo-op than he was on returning to Epstein’s island for darker reasons. Maybe American readers here have Irish ancestry. Perhaps your great-grandaddy was a tough New York cop called O’Hare or Flanagan. If you are interested in the current tragedy taking place in the Emerald Isle, I suggest you watch this video, and those of many other dissident content creators coming out of Ireland. It features the Irish President, Catheline Connolly, talking about St. Patrick’s Day, March 17. You don’t need telling about Paddy’s Day, it’s a license for everyone to go nuts, and the Irish have always welcomed the fact that the world enjoys it too. But this year it has become “multicultural,” and the President isn’t really speaking in the usual spirit of the occasion. St. Patrick, this ghoulish woman says, was “human trafficked” to Ireland, and forced into slavery. She is, as the Irish say, wired to the moon, but sadly she is also in a position of power (although she is not the ultimate boss, that is the Taoiseach, pronounced Tee-shock). Also, watch and subscribe to the following fellows, if you want to know the sad truth about what is happening to one of the world’s most beautiful countries. They will appreciate the support:

Derek Domino.

County Gains.

Peter Dooley Dublin.

These rebellious Irishmen are fighting the good fight and, as noted, the Irish tend to lead with the fist. They are not going to lie down for the invader like their old oppressors, the English, have done. I hope you had a happy St. Paddy’s Day. Enjoy it while you can.

De-Banking History

I wrote here at Counter Currents last week about Yuri Bezmenov, the Soviet defector to the West who spilled the beans about Communist methods to undermine and subvert nations from within. The first of Bezmenov’s four-stage process is demoralization, and this is in full swing in the UK, where every government decision seems specifically designed to make once-proud nations (the UK is not a nation but a union of nations) feel ashamed of their past and its great men and women. The latest attack on the white natives is the Bank of England’s decision to remove great British figures from UK bank-notes.

The pantheon of images to appear on British paper money over the years is impressive. Churchill, Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Dickens, J. M. Turner, Edward Elgar, George Stephenson (inventor of the first train, the Rocket), Florence Nightingale, and Michael Faraday, the “father of electricity”; all these historic figures will no longer grace the nation’s currency. There is even a philosopher currently on the £50 note, the brilliant logician and wartime codebreaker, Alan Turing. The Northern Irish enjoy the mercurial footballer, George Best, on their cash. Not for long.

The cynical among us assumed that these iconic British men and women would be replaced by various talentless blacks and low-IQ sub-continental Asians, but even the current British government wouldn’t dare go that far, at least not yet. Instead, these great historical Britons are to be replaced with images of wildlife. Nothing wrong with that in itself, if you have any wildlife of interest in your country. Here in Costa Rica, which occupies 0.2% of the world’s land mass but contains 5% of its animal species, hummingbirds, monkeys, and dolphins adorn the pretty bank-notes. But turn each note over, and you will see the nation’s heroes. José Figueres Ferre, who led the Central American Revolution in 1848, and disbanded Costa Rica’s army the next year, never to be reformed to this day. Braulio Carrillo Colina, twice El Presidente, and known as “the architect of the Costa Rican state.” And there is no stereotypical Latino sexism. Carmen Lyra, a great Costa Rican educator and proto-feminist, appears on the 20,000-Colones note. Costa Ricans are incredibly proud of their history, and the men and women who made the country what it is, “the Switzerland of Central America.” Removing these national figureheads simply would not occur to politicians who love their country. It is only the self-haters in Western governments who would do such a thing. Replacing images of great Britons with wildlife in a country which doesn’t have many species of particular interest or beauty is deliberately perverse. Churchill, apparently, is to be replaced with a beaver. Joking aside, I lived on a canal-boat for ten years and never saw a single beaver, or even a beaver-dam. But now this vanishingly rare creature is to replace arguably the most famous Englishman in history.

The most disturbing aspect of this blatant, self-hating blancophobia is that there are focus-groups, special advisers, policy shapers, and academics currently in meetings with only one agenda; how can we best show the white British people how much we despise them? The enemy is within, and you can take that to the bank.

Goodbye, Special Relationship

The “special relationship” between America and Britain was exemplified by President Reagan waltzing with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher in the 1980s. The bond is a natural consequence of the history between the two countries. Or it was. Donald Trump recently declared that the special relationship was “on the brink,” and Prime Minister Keir Starmer has done everything he can to strain it to breaking point. The refusal to assist the American campaign in Iran could be the final straw for Trump. Despite knowing for months that such an attack by its most important ally was coming, the once-mighty Royal Navy was unable to send any ships to the Gulf as they were almost all undergoing maintenance. It is unlikely that Sir Francis Drake had that sort of problem when defeating the Spanish Armada in 1588, but Starmer’s evasive reasons for not joining Operation Epic Fury (which sounds like a Marvel hero, Nick Fury’s brother, perhaps) were seen through by Trump immediately.

Starmer and his Cabinet of wretches have a lot of form when it comes to taunting Trump, which is not the wisest of political strategies just now. Trump may have MAGA on his baseball cap, but it may as well read FAFO, as Venezuela’s Nicolas Maduro can attest, and the Ayatollah would if he were not spread around his basement. Before Trump’s triumph in the last election, Starmer sent a hundred Labour Party workers to the States to campaign for Harris. This is a clear breach of electoral interference law, something an ex-lawyer like Starmer should know. He was a human-rights lawyer, though, not one of the meaningful or useful ones. As far back as Trump’s first electoral win in 2016, Labour politicians were openly insulting Trump. David Lammy, now Justice Secretary and Deputy Prime Minister, is a stupid black man even by the standards which obtain among black men, and he referred to Trump as a “Nazi”—very original—and “a dictator in a toupé,” an unbelievably childish thing for any adult to say, let alone a leading politician. No fried chicken for Lammy at the White House, we hope.

Trump has shown that he is not going to take any crap from Keir Starmer, who has now lied twice to the President’s face about the state of free speech in Britain. Trump also did what the British press would not dare to do, which is to point out that Starmer’s reluctance to commit the UK to a war against a Muslim nation is purely to appease the Muslim voting bloc he has imported. This is true but rather odd, given that most Muslims are Sunni while Iran is 90% Shia, but practically no one in Britain understands the radical sectarianism running through Islam. But for America’s oldest ally to duck out when the bullets start flying has genuinely angered Trump, and many in his government are taking aim at this lame-duck Prime Minister.

Senator Joe Kennedy is always a must-watch for me, and he was typically forthright about the demise of the special relationship. “England was founded by geniuses,” he told the Senate in his Louisiana drawl, “but today it’s being run by idiots.” What drew the Senator’s ire was Starmer’s refusal for the Americans to use air-bases in order to order to attack Iran, a country notorious for its sponsorship of international terrorism. When Starmer finally relented, Trump said, thanks but no thanks. America doesn’t need or want your help, and we are not going to forget that the UK only volunteered to send support when the war was already won. (It clearly isn’t, but we have to forgive Trump his trademark bluster). “Asking Prime Minister Starmer for advice about war,” Senator Kennedy continued, “is like asking advice about sex from a nun.”

Touché, Senator.

Green is as Green Does

Politics in the UK has never been as unstable, unpredictable, or volatile in my lifetime as it is right now. Restore Britain, whose leader Rupert Lowe I covered here at Counter Currents, is breaking records, but it is hard to see him getting anywhere near power. His party recently passed 113,000 members after less than a month in existence. The Conservative Party, the oldest political organization on the planet, has existed for 192 years and currently has 112,000 paid-up members. They are going the same way as the Whigs, and good riddance, but who will fill the void? Reform UK, under Nigel Farage, are still considered favorites to win the next General Election, but seem to be becoming a cross between a retirement home for old Tories, and a new Muslim political front. But as far as Islamic influence in UK politics is concerned, there is another party coming up fast on the rails.

The Green Party have always been the party of the real loony Left, avoided by most voters, and ruinous if they ever do get power at a local level. But now they have started winning by-elections, and beat both Reform and Labour in the recent ballot in the Manchester ward of Gorton and Denton. To give an idea of their dislike of their own country, the party have stated that, should they ever gain power, they will drop the Church of England as the established church of Great Britain. They needn’t bother. The Church of England is doing a great job of dismantling itself without any outside help. One look at the current and 106th Archbishop of Canterbury—a woman, obviously—should be enough to tell you her political leanings.

But it is the Green Party’s links with Islam which should cause most concern to the kufr of the UK. Muslims have infiltrated the party, which is coming to resemble an Islamic version of the Trojan horse. When a local Muslim councilor won a by-election on the Green ticket, the victor gave a short press conference in which he shouted “Allahu akhbar!” (God is great, or greater) and dedicated his victory to Gaza. With new Islamic hate-speech laws being brought in, Muslims functioning at a high level within every party, a toxic Muslim  fifth columnist as Mayor of the capital, and many urban areas becoming no-go zones for kufr, voting Green might not get you the shade of that color you wish for.

England for the English?

Finally, there has been a lot of chatter in the UK recently about what it is to be British or, more specifically, English. Can Pakistanis and Africans become English just by being given a passport? The government seem to think so. If I pitch up in Japan and manage to get a passport (impossible in practice), it wouldn’t make me Japanese, but apparently to become English you just need to break into the country, stick around while your application is fast-tracked, and you’ll soon be admiring your photo in your brand-new passport. Instant Englishness. There is no debate about the Welsh, Scots, or Irish, just the English. We are the ones the deep state really hates.

Well, you don’t get much more English than me. The name “Gullick” comes from “Guthlac,” an Anglo-Saxon name meaning “battle-play” or “war strategy.” The family had a mini-diaspora in Ireland, and my great-grandfather was a master-carpenter in Dublin, name of Whelan. But Guthlacs are mentioned in the Domesday Book, the nation’s first census and audit of property, and one of England’s most important founding documents. The Domesday Book was compiled under the reign of William the Conqueror in 1086, which is fine by me as William is my middle name. So, I am about as English as they come, yet if I were foolish enough to go back to the old country, my old schoolmate Starmer would undoubtedly throw me in jail for my social media past and journalistic present. Having no wish to be kicked to death in jail by men with huge beards, I remain in self-imposed exile from the country I love, displaced and disowned by a country 5,000 miles away, and run by a man I was at school with. It’s strange the way things turn out.

Time for another Easter Rising. . .

The Union Jackal.