Is fearr Gaeilge bhriste

on Kneecap & the Irish language in West Belfast

Photo from Kneecap.ie

There’s a cheeky expression that is popular in the north of Ireland–you’ve likely seen it on a mural if you’ve been to Belfast: “Is fearr Gaeilge briste ná Béarla cliste.” It translates as “broken Irish is better than clever English;” which is to say that it’s better to try to speak Irish, if even imperfectly, than to speak English perfectly.

Under British colonial rule, it was illegal to speak Irish in Ireland, and the ban had a devastating impact on the language that in some ways can still be felt today. If you look at a map of the surviving Gaeltacht (Irish language speaking) areas on the island, you may notice that they exist in more remote, far flung areas, like parts of Donegal, Connemara, and Kerry; the fact that they are harder to reach allowed the communities there to speaking Irish without as much fear of repression.

The new film Kneecap, based on the Irish hip hop group of the same name, takes place in the Gaeltacht Quarter in West Belfast, a lesser known Gaeltacht and the first urban one in the north of Ireland. There’s another phrase used in the film which definitely goes harder and speaks more directly to the idea of using the Irish language as a weapon against the British empire. Naoise, or Móglaí Bap’s father, an IRA man on the run played by Michael Fassbender, had drilled it into his head since he was a child: “Every word of Irish spoken is a bullet fired for the cause of Irish independence.”

The phrase itself is an old Sinn Féin saying that was used in the early 80s, as part of the cultural revival that was developed to complement the armed struggle. At an event at Conway Mill in 1982, Belfast-based teacher and Sinn Féin cultural officer Pádraig Ó Maolchraoibhe commented, "I don't think we can exist as a separate people without our language. Now every phrase you learn is a bullet in the freedom struggle."

The film is based on the true story of the formation of Kneecap, in which the members of the group play themselves. (If this is the first you’ve heard of them, there’s a great 2022 article about their background and meteoric rise by Una Mulally for The New York Times.) Regardless of how some critics feel about their lyrics about drug use or chants of “Brits out” at concerts, there’s no doubt that they are playing a huge role in modernizing and popularizing the use of Irish, as well as turning more young people on to the idea of learning a language whose instruction in schools has long since been characterized as stodgy and outdated. (I took an Irish class in NYC in 2019, and my teacher would often cite Kneecap lyrics to teach us slang.)

From The New York Times article:

Móglaí Bap said Kneecap’s members came from “probably the first generation coming out of the Irish-language education system that developed their own sense of identity within the language.” For the group, rapping in Irish wasn’t just about lyricism, or even identity, Mo Chara said. It offered, he added, “a completely different understanding of the culture, and even of reality around you.”

“We found this wee niche,” Móglaí Bap said. “The language is a way for us to bring people with us.”

West Belfast, where Kneecap are from, has historically been a working class, predominantly Catholic area of the city, and there is a long history there of using Irish as both a tool of cultural resistance and community empowerment. There’s an expression for this, too: “Na habair é, déan é”--don’t say it, do it. 

Back in 1960, a group of five young families who were passionate about the Irish language bought a small piece of land near Andersonstown in West Belfast, and built their homes from the ground up. In 1969, the Gaeltacht Bhóthar Seoighe, or Shaws Road Gaeltacht, was born. Their desire to raise their children in the medium of Irish led the families to establish the first Irish language primary school in the area just two years later in 1971. 

“The growth of the Irish language community is the result of work that was carried out over the years. People who taught Irish in houses, in kitchens, in cramped rooms, on a voluntary basis, their whole life long, without asking for, or receiving a penny for their efforts,” Máire Mhic Sheáin, one of the founders, told the Andersonstown News.

Part of the cultural revival of the Irish language in the north during the conflict extended to the prison system as well, where “Jailteachts” were set up so Irish republican prisoners could teach one another the Irish language (probably where Fassbender’s character would have learned). 

Having spent so much time in the north of Ireland over the years (not to mention in non-touristy areas), I know that my knowledge of the place makes for a deeper understanding of the context of films like Kneecap, but I’m always curious to hear how these films land with others who are not as familiar with those places. Would love to hear about others’ experience of the film, either in the comments or via email!.

On a final note, I am really loving the critical reception Irish language films like Kneecap and An Cailín Ciúin have been getting–particularly in the United States. If nothing else, it’s reinforcing my own desire to become fluent. 

Slán go fóill!