This comes up, indirectly, in many ways. Lately it has been less and less asking me about why I don’t call myself a Druid if I am in fact incorporating Irish Traditions into my personal praxis. The short, and perhaps a tad bit terse answer is that “Irish Traditions” include anything from myths and legends, folklore and what many might call superstitions but we still lovingly call písteóga (lit. charms) is Irish. Limiting this term to one neopagan-centric viewpoint is a bit daft if I’m honest.
The romantic children and descendants of ex-pats long since removed from our shores have little appreciation or understanding of how deeply rooted Irish myths and legends are into place. In modern Irish this is called dinnseanchas (topography) or dindshenchas in old-Irish. This term originates with the volume of texts known as, ‘The Metrical Dindshenchais’, which accounts for the historiography of the place names of Ireland. The importance of dinnseanhas in contemporary Ireland cannot be misrepresented either as modern English studies scholars are noticing the importance of this style of story-telling in contemporary writers. So this isn’t a case of what is old is made new again, it simply has been a cultural norm for thousands of years on this island.
How might this all fit in with why or why not one calls themselves a Druid, you ask? Well it’s not simple but I will try and explain it as clearly as possible. First, though you will have to accept that Ireland isn’t your generic brand “Celtic culture”, this problematic piece of Tourism came about with the romantic notion of an Irish Literary Revival which launched the modern search for a definition of ‘Irishness’ beyond the layers of British colonialism (still wondering about folklore well diminutive Fair-Folk in red-coats really ought to be a clue linking colonialism and concerning the next key word: satire).
The myths of Ireland are filled with sagely Druids casting ghéasa (taboo) or a magical satire against someone. What is often overlooked is the context, many of these druids didn’t use the term, they preferred; the nominative singular is “Fili”, but pretty much every other case (genetive, accusitive etc.) is “Filid”. However, the spelling “File” is attested within the Old-Irish period too. File (mod. meaning: poet; old-Irish meaning judge). Taking Ireland as distinct from continental Europe and the island of Britain we start to see that the Filí (pl. poets, judges, historians) were an esteemed class of judiciary who utilised mnemonics and memory aids through poetry and metres to memorise huge tracts of legal proceedings. And yup, you guessed it, pronouncing a satire against someone had to be regulated. Just as defamation could impact negatively on someone today it REALLY could back then since the ‘honour price’ carried a lot of weight in Irish society. So if the judge rushed to pronounce a satire against someone then they would be satirised in turn after many lives could be lost. Truth be told I’ve recently learned that there is little to distinguish the roles of the poet, the judge and the historian during this time.
In the Irish system of law there is a lower class of judge called, dair or duir, which is actually etymologically linked to the oak. However, this class of judge or arbiter was essentially an itinerant class of judiciary which wasn’t linked or patronised by a chieftain or king.
Aside from the innate classism here (Blackhall v. Kings Inn anyone?!), both classes could lay down a satire but this was never done lightly and required all sorts of obligations of notice in order to right the wrong or account for it before it took affect. Men and women could be trained as judges in Irish society back then, and so this may well account for some of the female characters in stories placing a géis on a person.
Now, I do feel an explanation is due considering this is meant to be a blog about magical work and journeys and so far I seem to be avoiding this. We don’t have any clear insight into how the everyday person understood the ghéasa — i.e. where these jointly magical curses and hexes which could dishonour the Ancestors (there is a 3 generational rule around moving between classes later on during Brehon Law times in particular) or was it simply social order that if the proclamation went forth you and/or your family could be staunchly ostracised (honour price again). Did it shift between the two viewpoints at times? Who knows!
Long story short, the power of myth-making is real and was alive and well in ancient Irish society.
So, since I have not studied any of these law tracts established by the Filid of ancient Ireland I can’t rightly call myself a Druid.
The structuring of the training is so markedly different from modern Druidic Orders and Fellowships that I would not consider them Irish. And while Celtic is a popular term it is difficult to breakdown what it actually means outside of academic circles.
There does seem to be a congruent term which becomes rendered as druid in modern English through the Gaulish language and into Latin and down to English there. This is often explained as the morphology of words. That is to say how words change over time. Some are in very direct lines and others more through vague understandings of what was implied or meant originally. Chiefly put, we don’t know why Julius Caesar’s historian was told what he was told about druids as dastardly, barbaric priest-kings and sooth-sayers or indeed if he made it all up to make the Roman Empire seem more righteous (antient colonialism clearly had the same tactics as modern day colonialism if you ask me).
Many of the modern Druidic Orders owe their growth in popularity to the growth in Earth-based spirituality, Ancestral veneration and the Goddess movement; but this is not the totality of their origins. Believe it or not fraternal societies as “antient” as the 18th Century were founded in the wake of the Romantic period in British literature. Most of these early members of Druidic Orders were in fact Christian and not Neo-pagan.
Now I did say that I’d explain why I don’t use the term Druid, didn’t I?
So, none of the aforementioned facts should actually negate your spiritual or religious path. If it has, then honestly its probably not the path for you! There are some aspects of neo-druidry I do like, like the animism or earth-centred practice and I’m really starting to appreciate ancestral veneration a lot more as I get older.
There are some modern Druids in Ireland. Some of whom are affiliated with international organisations like Ár nDraíocht Féin (ADF) in the U.S. or the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids (OBOD) in the U.K., and there are a few who like to fly a little under the radar as solitary druids and nature worshippers — possibly some place between the philosophical and the spiritual lifestyle maybe?! Anyway, most of these seem to be fairly chilled out about the provenance of their practices and even when their practice doesn’t hold up to historical scrutiny they strive to make sincere connections.
By now you may be asking, then why is he posting this really long ass’d piece on druidry or neo-druidism?
Well, truthfully it has less to do with the erroneous meanings behind the word Druid and more to do with how charged such a term could be as we face into issues around Brexit and have to open up the dialogue on what is ‘Irishness’ and I just know that between the bluster of politics and sectarianism – which isn’t all just hot air mind! I do know that some folk are going to latch on to a falsely monolithic definition of what is Irishness and what it means to be Irish.
“The old order changeth yielding place to new / And God fulfills himself in many ways / Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. / Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me I have lived my life and that which I have done / May he within himself make pure but thou / If thou shouldst never see my face again / Pray for my soul. / More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.” ― (“Morte d’Arthur”)
Old Orders inspire new and hopefully usher the story forward in new and more meaningful ways.
[Update: 28/11/2018] Considering, that I have ardently attempted to represent Fili/File as “not the magical magicians of yore” in this post, you can imagine the feeling of egg on my face when I was informed by a friend that I’d been a tad bit remiss in my etymological breakdown of Fili/File or Filid. You see I’ve been so focused on what was that I missed out on the proliferation of articles translating, “file as ‘seer’ originally”. I even argued with another friend on the matter.
The original meaning of Fili/File is “seer, diviner”, and in earlier documents generally implies occult powers or knowledge which brings us back to the question of imbass forosnae. Imbas(s) meaning “inspiration”, particularly that of poetic inspiration and forosnae/forosnai meaning “illuminated” or “that which illuminates”. Overall, Wikipedia renders this as clairvoyance but does go on to suggest there practical techniques of sensory deprivation to induce a trance-like state. For more on imbas forosna, Nora Chadwick is quoted at length here.
So in the meantime here’s a paraphrased section from eDIL—Irish Language Dictionary:
From early times the ‘filid‘ formed an important and highly organised corporation classed among the ‘saer-nemed‘ (privileged classes) […]. There were seven grades of fili, of which the highest was the ollam filed ; […] the fully qualified poet when appointed by the king of territories Laws i 42z Comm. ollamh fileadh (‘master poet’) Studies 1919, 74. […] Comm. secht ngrad filed : ollam, ansrut[h], cli, canae, dos, mac fuirmid, focluc, O’Mulc. […] The fili was at all periods distinguished from the bard (q.v.), whose qualifications and status were inferior […] the reason bards are entitled to only half the honour-price of poets is that they do not serve [= practise their art], for ‘dire’ – fine is not paid for any in the grades of a poet who do not serve or are not served BB 296b33 . […] The fili in his twelve-year course of study ( IT iii 31 ff .) had to master the various metrical tracts and oghams, memorise a mass of verse and prose tales, and learn certain methods of incantation : is hi … foglaim na hochtmaide bliadna .i. fiscomarca filed .i. duili berla ┐ clethchor choem ┐ reicne roscadach ┐ laíde .i. tenm laída ┐ immas forosnai ( ZCP xix 163 ) ┐ dichetal do chennaib na tuaithe ┐ dín[n]ṡenchus ┐ primscéla Hérend olchena fria n-aisneis do ríghaib ┐ flaithib ┐ dagdhoínib. Ar ni comlán in fili chena, sicut dixit poeta : ni ba dúnad cen rígu. niba fili cen scéla IT iii 49 – 50 . in- feded in fili scél cacha aidche do Mongán LU 10942 .
The entry on eDIL also explains other terms for ‘a reciter of lore; a historian’ i.e. senchaid which helps to explore multiple nuances in language use of the time. And possibly introduces me to my new favourite proverb: “sencaidh gach fer forba nó ferainn → everyone who owns a patrimony or estate is a historian, has a memory for the past”.
Breithem, literally meaning, “maker of judgments” tends to be rendered as judge or arbiter in eDIL.
Senchaid and breithem seem to become more distinguished in later usage while file seems to have blended the role or function of all three earlier on.
Abhainn 