Industrial Republican Manorialism: Toward the Modernisation of Irish Society

Ireland stands, as ever, at the edge of Europe—geographically outside the Hanjal Line, yet increasingly entangled in the fate of the continent. The Hanjal Line, popularized in recent discourse by the late HBD Chick (our gael) and others, denotes a broad cultural boundary that once divided the bipartite manorialism of central and western Europe from the more communal or tribal structures beyond it. Within that zone, family structures were reorganized, authority localized, and a culture of trust, discipline, and delayed gratification took root. These were not incidental traits—they laid the psychological and social groundwork for industrialization itself.

Our island did not undergo this transformation in the same way. Though touched by feudalism and later by imperial administration, Ireland's pre-modern structure remained more clannish, pastoral, and emotionally local. This fostered resilience and resistance, but it also meant the loss of certain manorial virtues that helped other peoples adapt swiftly to modern industry and civic order. We were a warrior people, yes—but one without the cold, systematic steel that binds sword to plough and plough to state.

I myself have these lackadaisical traits. Where I choose to live life that could be called west indian or Hawaiian, but lackadaisical behavior does not build civilization, unless it is geared towards contemplative leisure that allows discovery of new opportunities. Opportunities require execution or they are left as scribbles.

For instance, the Netherlands went through 3 selection events that turned it into a small nation that punches way above its weight. Earliest bipartite manorialism> colonization of the Rhine estuary> early selection pressures derived from early market society. The Dutch are a quiet great power to this day.

What would it take, then, for Ireland to reforge itself—not in mimicry of Frankish models, but acknowledging the conditions of the modern era?

First, a sovereign people must be armed. Universal conscription must become the bedrock of national sovereignty (this is also a vehicle to rapidly rehabilitate the Irish language, French foreign legion style, which is best explored in another article). Every able-bodied man would serve in the defense and construction of the nation. The barracks becomes the forge of citizenry, where loyalty, skill, and hierarchy are instilled—not merely for the sake of war, but to rekindle civic pride and shared destiny.

Second, the nation must place value where it matters. A ruthless meritocracy must be accepted if we are to elevate the collective. A one-child policy, however taboo, could be enforced on those who fail a national aptitude examination—not out of cruelty, but as a hard acknowledgment that if even the national army cannot employ or train an individual, the likelihood of their flourishing in the market (even free of all rent-seeking) is grim. This is not eugenics for its own sake, but a sacrificial strategy to lift the entire people into a future where dependence and dysfunction are no longer subsidized by the state.

Selective breeding may bring philosophy, but falsificationary breeding brings 1st world countries with clean streets, low corruption, and advanced industry.

Third, the welfare system, long a hollowed-outl handout machine, must be replaced with a system of universal basic work. Every citizen without private employment shall be tasked with public labor. This might begin with pragmatic projects—nuclear power stations, roads, munitions stockpiles—but it must not end there. In a healthy civilization, beauty is not a luxury, it is a duty. Let us imagine a pyramid to Brian Boru rising on the banks of the Shannon, its interior adorned with gothic splendor and a towering statue fit for the first high king. Let that monument be both shrine and statement: the Gael endures.

Over generations, such a society would shift. It would not become more docile, but more conscientious. Trust would be generated from being forced to cooperate and even marry beyond the Tuath. Intelligence would no longer flee the island but remain rooted in service. Ireland would become not a nation of clients and careerists, but of builders, soldiers, and stewards.

This is not an argument for regression, but for resurrection. In the age of disintegration, it is not enough to preserve the old virtues—we must rearm them, restructure them, and raise them like stone upon stone. From the ruins of colonization and the drift of postmodern decline, a manorial republic can rise. One that is neither slave to foreign capital nor subject to bureaucratic inertia.

Let the world see a new Ireland—disciplined, beautiful, and unbreakable.