The below article was sent in to us from RIS facebook fan Jude Southerland Kessler. John Lennon’s Celtic Call It would have been almost impossible for John Lennon to ignore the pervasive appeal of Irish music and themes in his compositions. First of all, his family heritage was Irish.[1] And, his native Liverpool was heavily populated by Irish immigrants (due to the Great Famine of the 1840’s) – so much so that the town is still fondly referred to as “The Capital of Ireland.” Irish songs and lilts filled the Merseyside pubs and streets of John’s youth. But most importantly, as a champion of independence and world peace, John backed the cause of his true homeland’s national autonomy; he strongly believed in Ireland’s quest for freedom. Throughout his solo career (1970-1980), John Lennon sang out for the rights of men, women, and children – fighting for those oppressed to enjoy the blessings of political sovereignty. He always stood in the gap for the underdog, but never more so than when those oppressed dwelt in his heart’s homeland, Ireland. An auburn-haired Ó Leannain, John was no stranger to the dark, bitter wit of the beleaguered Irishman: “If you had the luck of the Irish/You’d be sorry ’n wish you was dead,” John sang. “You should have the luck of the Irish/ And you’d wish you was English instead!” An avid reader and voracious consumer of politics and history, John was well-acquainted with the events of the Risings and Troubles. He also knew the more recent injustices endured by Irish patriots and sympathized with their cause. As biographer, Jon Wiener aptly stated in Come Together: John Lennon in His Time, John “thought of himself as Irish.”[2] And the FBI file compiled on Lennon (released in 2000) shows “solid evidence” that during his New York City days, John was unapologetically involved with Irish Republican activists. Therefore, his 1972 solo LP, Some Time In New York City, stepped out courageously in protest of English occupation of Ireland and against British internment of Irish prisoners without trial (a practice begun 9 August 1971), offering two songs – “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “The Luck of the Irish” – as Lennon’s undiluted anthems for Irish rights. In “Luck of the Irish,” John wailed: “A thousand years of torture and hunger Drove the people away from their land, A land full of beauty and wonder Was raped by the British brigands!” Then in “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” (written upon the occasion of the 30 January 1972 “Bogside Massacre” in which 26 unarmed civil rights protestors and bystanders were gunned down by British soldiers, killing 13 civilians),[3] John sang from his heart: “You Anglo pigs and Scotties Sent to colonize the North, You wave your bloody Union Jack, And you know what it’s worth! How dare you hold to ransom A people proud and free, Keep Ireland for the Irish! Put England back to sea!” Lennon held nothing back in support of Irish cause; he lacerated England without buffering his anger and resentment. But it’s not only John’s condemnation that spoke volumes about his feelings for the Emerald Isle. It’s the passion evident in these songs as well. In the poetic bridge to “Luck of the Irish,” he expressed a deep love for the homeland he visited with Cynthia in late March of 1964: “If you could drink dreams like Irish streams Then the world would be high as the mountains of morn…” John’s days at the breath-taking Cliffs of Moher and Dromoland Castle – a bright oasis during the height of Beatlemania – was the place to which his memory could return again and again for refreshment. He felt an inexplicable bond with Ireland, a bond born in the blood. In fact, in 1971, John stated: “I told Yoko that’s where we’re going to retire, and I took her to Ireland. We went around Ireland a bit and we stayed in Ireland and we had a sort of second honeymoon there. So I was completely involved in Ireland.”[4] And as the years passed, his dramatic love for the land only increased. John began to consider himself a spokesman for the Irish cause: “Most people express themselves by shouting or playing football at the weekend. But me, here I am in New York, and I hear about 13 people shot dead in Ireland, and I react immediately. And being what I am, I react in four-to-the-bar with a guitar break in the middle.”[5] He spoke to the British in “Sunday Blood Sunday,” reminding them in his usual acerbic manner: “You claim to be the majority, Well, you know that it’s a lie! You’re really only a minority On this sweet Emerald Isle. When Stormont bans our marches They’ve got a lot to learn, Internment is no answer, It’s those mothers’ turn to burn!” Indeed, John’s use of the term “our marches” shows his “all-in” involvement with the Irish Republic movement. And all royalties from both “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “Luck of the Irish” were donated by John and Yoko to the Irish civil rights cells in both New York and Ireland. But John wasn’t only financially and verbally supportive of the Celtic Cause: on 5 February 1972, John took to New York’s streets with Jerry Rubin and 5,000 other Irish supporters, parading outside the offices of British owned airlines, BOAC. In protest of Britain’s practices in Ireland,[6] John wanted to stand tall and be counted in the cause. And that Irish ardor only increased. By 1974, when John’s Walls and Bridges LP was released, he included a booklet containing a detailed history of the Lennon family originally printed in Irish Families, Their Names, Arms, and Origins by Edward MacLysaght. Interestingly, at the end of that entry where MacLysaght had written, “No person of the name of Lennon has distinguished himself in the political, military, or cultural life of Ireland…” John angrily scribbled in the margin, “Oh yeh? John Lennon!” And as usual, John was right. In fact, MacLysaght’s 1982 revised edition of Irish Families carried this amendment: “Since the 4th edition of Irish Families, John Lennon, an outstanding member of The Beatles group, assassinated in 1980, has become well-known outside Ireland not only as a talented musician but also for his connection with the Peace Movement.”[7] And with this notation, the Lennon family assumed its rightful place in Irish history. But is that one notation enough? Attributing his musical talent “for crooning” to his Irish heritage and risking his reputation by speaking out (and singing loud) for Ireland, (both “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “Luck of the Irish” were banned by the BBC and John’s latter appearances were picketed by Loyalist groups), John Lennon stood his ground for Ireland, the verdant land from which his family sprang. Whether you spell his surname Ó Lionain, Ó Leannian, or Lennon, the name still comes from the term leannan meaning “lover or paramour.”[8] And nothing could be more apropos. John loved Ireland with a passion that only amplified as he matured and aged. In October 2006, a short film released by the Irish Film Institute detailed the marvelous events of the day in which fervent Irish fans Richard and Maureen Hall spontaneously gate-crashed their way into John’s presence. At the end of that serendipitous meeting, John generously presented Maureen with his Ivor Novello award for “She’s Leaving Home,” telling her that the statue was “only gathering dust” in his house and that he would be pleased for her to take it home to Ireland.[9] And he meant that. Now, however, it is John’s reputation that is “gathering dust” in the wake of an Irish history that is being chronicled without him. As Seán Mac Mathúna, author of the article, “John Lennon and the Irish Question,” points out so adeptly, John is not listed in The Guinness Book of Irish Feats and Facts. Under the heading of “Top-Selling Irish and Irish-related Popular Music Artists,” Mac Mathúna points out, one can find the names of U2, Van Morrison, and Bob Geldof, but not John Lennon. Similarly, under the category, “The London Irish,” the names of the Sex Pistols, Boy George, and Elvis Costello are denoted, but not John Lennon.[10] Surely the man who wrote this passage with fire in his eyes deserves representation: “Why the hell are the English there anyway As they kill with God on their side, ‘N blame it all on the kids and the IRA As the bastards commit genocide!” John was utterly committed to Ireland. In fact, at University College, Dublin, Yoko Ono said it best: “John believed he was Irish.”[11] Supporting a cause in name only is one thing, but John Lennon backed the Celtic Call with action. His dedication to revolution was Ireland’s dedication, and his devotion to the land of his fathers and grandfathers was undiminished at the time of his assassination. A hero who obeyed the Celtic call within him, John Lennon immortalized his lover – his beloved Ireland – in song and in deed. And that unvanquished spirit lives on today in the hearts of those who still hear his music and hearken to his anguished cry. For the cause of Irish freedom, John shines on. The question is: “Who will notice?” [1] Lynch, Michael and Damian Smyth, The Beatles and Ireland, 1-3. A complete family tree is found on p. 2. [2] http://www.fantompowa.net/Flame/john_lennon_irish_roots.html [3] Du Noyer, Paul, We All Shine On: The Stories Behind Every John Lennon Song, 1970-1980, 64. [4] “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bloody_Sunday_1972. [5] “Sunday Bloody Sunday” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bloody_Sunday_1972. [6] Du Noyer, Paul, We All Shine On: The Stories Behind Every John Lennon Song 1970-1980, 65. [7] MacLysaght, Edward, Irish Families, Their Names, Arms, and Origins, Revised, 1982. [8] Lynch, Michael, and Damian Smythe, The Beatles and Ireland, 1. [9] Lynch and Smythe, The Beatles and Ireland, 108-109. [10] Sean Mac Mathuna, “John Lennon and the Irish Question,” found on this website: http://www.fantompowa.net?Falme/john_lennon_irish_roots.html [11] Lynch and Smythe, The Beatles and Ireland, 143.