The Easter Lily at 100: Cuimhnímis ar laochra na Cásca

The following first appeared on the Substack ‘Creeve Rua’ and is syndicated with the permission of the author.

Commemorating our patriot dead

‘You can wear an Easter lily for the men who signed their name, For that mighty proclamation ended England's rule of shame

Padraig Pearse, James Connolly, Thomas Clarke and Éamonn Ceannt, MacDermot and McDonagh, it's from God that they were sent’—“The Easter Lily”, Derek Warfield & The Young Wolfe Tones.

‘For the past ten years, since 1925, the Easter Lily—initiated by Cumann na mBan—has been recognised as the National Emblem of commemoration of all those who in every generation gave their lives for Ireland. It is the outward mark of recognition and appreciation of the sacrifice of Pearse, Connolly, Plunkett, of Brugha, Mellows, O'Connor, of Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone—of every martyr to Ireland's cause. It is the public profession of loyalty and faith to the Republic for which these great men died.’—”The Easter Lily”, Irish Independent, 1935.

It has now been 100 years since the inspiring laochra of Cumann na mBan, led by Eithne Coyle and Sighle Humphreys, designed the famous Easter Lily as the central symbol of commemoration and recognition of our patriot heroes. From the executed martyrs of 1916 to all those who gave their lives to the cause in the past and present, it honoured them. Reflecting the metaphysical sacrifice of Pádraig Pearse and his men and women during that fateful week, the Lily perfectly encapsulates the dream of the resurrection of the Irish nation.

It is the symbol of spring, rebirth and renewal. A peace through an overcoming. As they saw it, it was a message of total political independence which was inaugurated by the Easter Rising. Advocates of the Lily argued that by wearing it ‘we proclaim our hope, our confidence, our determination to see the Flag of Easter Week flowing over a free, sovereign Republic for all Ireland.’—Connaught Telegraph, 1933. As they argued:

‘Cumann na mBan publicity material explained that the men of 1916 had ‘raised the banner of complete separation from England, and the wisdom of their demand united all the people of Ireland. That banner has been basely lowered. In the Easter Lily it is raised again’—“The Irish Republic was proclaimed by poster”: the politics of commemorating the Easter Rising, Higgins.

Nor was it merely a symbolic expression of solidarity and remembrance for a time since past, to wear and purchase the Easter Lily, often outside of Churches particularly during Easter Week, was to directly support the struggle for freedom of the country as well as liberty for those who gave their lives to the cause. This of course came with dangers; successive Irish and British governments did not look fondly on Republican commemoration, those who carried on the message of ‘16. But this was the price to pay for standing up for the spiritual founders of the nation:

‘the Easter Lily Commemoration Committee was formed [in 1926] and existed until 1965. Originally the lily was hand-made. Proceeds from the nationwide sales of the Easter Lily went to the Irish Republican Prisoners’ Dependants Fund. Many sellers were vilified, arrested, attacked and jailed for selling this symbol commemorating the memory of the men and women of the Easter Rising.’—“The Easter Lily”, Irish People.

One such egregious case of anti-Nationalist censorship and authoritarianism in response to the Lily occurred in the 1939. It revolved around an heroic Irish nationalist woman who refused to bend to the oppressive British regime. The Irish Press reported the case under the heading “Teacher In Prison For Her Principles”:

‘MISS MAY LAVERTY, 21-year-old technical school teacher, of Harcourt Street, Dublin, who was fined £40 and bound over on bail of £25, at Belfast, on Easter Monday, for wearing an Easter Lily, is in prison. After her arrest, relatives and friends appealed to her to agree to bail, but she refused, declaring that she would rather go to jail in defence of her principles.’—Irish Press, 1939.

Laverty and her comrade “Miss M. Donnelly” also refused to comply with the British demands once arrested. Held in Armagh Jail—all for wearing an Easter Lily remember—both women refused to wear prisoner uniforms in protest, making it so that ‘they were almost in solitary confinement for over a fortnight’. They were political prisoners of a foreign occupation, not petty criminals. Their bravery inspired a protest by a band of local Republicans called An Cumann Dith-Shnadhmtha (the Separatist Club), led by Gearóid Ó Cuinneagáin with some others, staging the defence of the Easter Lily, and its centrality in paying respect to our patriot dead.

In a demonstration of the heroic martyrdom that defines true Irish republicanism, the accused emphasised that their sacrifice was but one small act in service of the many patriots who gave their lives for freedom: ‘Miss Laverty, replying, said that what she had sacrificed seemed little or nothing when she read of the sentences of 20 years on Irishmen in England’ (same article).

False-recognition and dishonour

‘Who fears to speak of Easter Week, who blushes at the name? When cowards mock each patriot's fate, Who hangs his head in shame?’—“Who Fears To Speak Of 98?”.

Despite these heroic achievements, there have always been attempts historically at undermining the power and resonance of the Easter Lily. The aesthetic and symbolism, wrapped up in the emotion of commemorations, stirs a deep yearning for national resurrection within our hearts. This is precisely why in the 1930s Fianna Fáil party attempted to dislodge the Lily as the central image of the Rising, by replacing it with the ‘Easter Torch’. Recognising this affront, the Easter Lily Committee sent an open letter to newspapers denouncing this move:

‘the Fianna Fail Executive has decided deliberately to organise the selling of a rival commemorative symbol at Easter. The Easter Lily Committee feels sure that this attempt at sabotage by the National Executive of the Fianna Fail organisation will be resented by those who associate the wearing of the Easter Lily as part of the National Commemoration of the memory of our dead. This planned sabotage is in keeping with the work and practice of the leadership of the Fianna Fáil party which, while preaching unity, seeks by every action to intensify disagreements amongst those who profess to desire the restoration of the Republic of Ireland.’—“The Easter Lily”, Irish Independent, 1935.

Much like Ireland’s Call, or other attempts at neutering our patriotic tradition, Fianna Fáil’s alternative commemoratory ‘torch’ was destined to fail. While most people may be compliant to the status quo they live and work under on every other average day, Easter Week is inextricably bound to the cosmic psyche of the Irish nation. No Irishman or woman can truly block out the calling of our martyred ancestors once this season comes around. We all know deep down, those gallant bands did not die for the Saorstát and partition, nor did they die for the neoliberal ‘McIreland’ of today.

Similarly, our patriot dead did not die for the replacement of the British yoke with foreign occupation by different powers, ideologies or boots. While there was a vast array of views within them—from Reactionary Catholics to Progressive Suffragettes—there was always a consistent strand of the Sinn Féin principle of independence, a goal of Ireland Gaelic and free. Just as under the rule of the King or Kaiser, we could also not truly be free as a satellite province within the Soviet and / or communist spheres of influence either.

This direct tension was played out in the infamous ‘Stickies’ side of the Republican movement throughout the Troubles. This is the story I have spoken of previously, a gradual journey from the proudly Lily-wearing Official Sinn Féin, to the awkward adhesive-using Sinn Féin—The Workers’ Party to the eventual Lily-abandoning Workers’ Party and Democratic Left. As with their attempt to syncretise Unionist-sympathies, anti-Catholicism and foreign statism with Republican Socialism, the Gaelic and Catholic image of the Easter Lily never really ‘stuck’, requiring its debasement through chewing gum:

‘This last not as a term of abuse but to differentiate them from the 'Stickies' the Officials, who use gum to affix their Easter Lilies to their lapels as opposed to the Provisionals' pins.’—The IRA, Coogan.

And while this may not have began as a point of insult, it was soon exploited as evidence of the spiritual split within the movement. One side of this was between those whose identity with the Lily and Easter Week was tangible, ingrained and, excusing the pun, forged from a fierce ancestral mettle. For the other side, it needed to be applied in an ad hoc fashion, stuck-on to a worldview and movement which never awakened the national imagination of the nation in any way like the blood sacrifice of ‘16 did. Adding further detail:

‘It was after Easter that the Provisionals began to taunt their rivals for adopting an adhesive lily, nicknaming them “Stickeybacks”, a term soon shortened to “Sticks” or “Stickies”. The Provisionals were christened the “Pinheads” after reverting to using a pin to attach their lilies, but the name never caught on, most people referring to them as “Provos”.’—The Lost Revolution, Brian Hanley, p. 221.

The resurrection of our heroes

‘If you strike us down now we shall rise again and renew the fight. You cannot conquer Ireland; you cannot extinguish the Irish passion for freedom; if our deed has not been sufficient to win freedom then our children will win it by a better deed.’—An Piarsach, at his court martial.

Despite this, it can most definitely be said that much of the adhesive Lily wearing ‘stickies’ of this period were not without honour and decency themselves. One need only look at much of the great figures of the Gluaiseacht Chearta Sibhialta na Gaeltachta to assuage this concern. What it is to say is that by disrespecting the Lily, and failing to commemorate the sacrifice of Easter Week, you are neglecting Ireland.

For the same reason that the radical designs of the Officials resulted in the Neoliberal rainbow coalition of the Democratic Left, the honourable struggle of early Fianna Fáil under De Valera has also mutated into today’s anti-national uniparty of foreign subservience. This is what occurs if you fail to speak, live and honour all of those martyrs who gave their lives that we should live.

Though we may not yet have freedom for our nation, at least the Irish nation continues to live (for now). We can thank every Republican and Irish-Irelander for that, for fighting to ensure there would be a tomorrow. Without the rebellions of 1641, 1798, 1916, 1981 and every other time before it is perfectly possible the Irish nation would not live on today. Every breath you take, every waking day of your life you live as an Irishman or woman is a testament to the victory of Irish resistance. They died so we could live to tell the tale, and realise their dream.

If you are not commemorating our patriots' sacrifice—what are you doing? And why stop at the Easter Lily?—wear a Fáinne (no matter your skill level) too. Pay respects to your nation and wear your commitment to an Ireland Free and Gaelic on your sleeves. Pay respects to all the oppressed peoples of the world who yearn for freedom for their nation against foreign subservience.