Embracing Our Tongues

Why a Reform UK Government Must Champion Britain's Native Languages

In the tapestry of these British Isles, language is not merely a tool for communication, it's the very thread that weaves our history and culture into the present. As the historian David Starkey has insightfully observed, language embodies the continuity of our past, even when debased or diluted by invasions and time, serving as the common voice of natives and newcomers alike. More profoundly, as one reflection on linguistic heritage puts it, "language is history whispered in the present," a subtle echo of triumphs, tribulations, and transformations. It's the repository of our collective soul, echoing the battles, ballads, and beliefs of generations. From the rolling hills of Wales to the rugged Highlands of Scotland, and across the Irish Sea to Ulster, our native tongues, Welsh, Scots Gaelic, Scots, Ulster Scots, and Doric, stand as living monuments to our diverse heritage. Alongside English and its rich dialects, they form the linguistic mosaic that defines us as a people, or rather, as peoples united under one crown.

A nation's cultural vitality springs from its history, and history, in turn, fuels confidence in the past, present, and future. Preserving minority languages like the Celtic ones is essential for maintaining cultural identity and fostering a sense of community among speakers. They are not just relics but active bearers of cultural DNA, ensuring diversity in our shared narrative. A confident country embraces its multifaceted past - the Celtic migrations, Anglo-Saxon settlements, Norse influences, and more - without apology or erasure. This self-assurance allows the present to thrive as a harmonious blend, where traditions evolve yet remain rooted. Looking to the future, it equips us to pass on a resilient identity to generations, undiluted by global uniformity. As one poignant quote reminds us, "Losing the language means losing the culture. We need to know who we are because it makes a difference in who our children are." In this way, minority languages contribute to the preservation of language diversity, which is crucial for cultural heritage and identity.

Yet, in an era of globalisation and cultural homogenisation, these "lesser" languages risk fading into obscurity. A future Reform UK government, with its unapologetic pride in British identity, must step forward to support and revitalise them. Not out of nostalgia, but because true nationalism thrives on confidence in our multifaceted histories. It is only by celebrating these tongues - their literature, their folklore, their unyielding spirit - that we can forge a nation whole and resilient. And crucially, it's this self-assuredness that invites newcomers to integrate, as the Huguenots once did, weaving their threads into our fabric without unravelling it.

This commitment takes on added urgency with elections looming in 2026 for the Scottish Parliament and the Welsh Senedd. In Scotland, the vote on or before May 7, 2026, will elect 129 members, amid ongoing discussions on Gaelic support through plans like the 2021-2026 Gaelic Language Plan, which aims to bolster the language's role in public life. In Wales, the May 7, 2026, election marks a historic shift, expanding the Senedd to 96 members under new constituencies and a proportional system, with language policy central to manifestos. The Welsh Language Commissioner's 2026 manifesto pushes for ambitious targets, like reaching one million Welsh speakers by 2050, highlighting language as a pillar of national strategy. For Reform UK, championing these languages isn't just savvy politics, appealing to voters in devolved nations where cultural identity runs deep, but inherently good in of itself. It reinforces national unity by valuing regional histories, building confidence that transcends electoral cycles. In a confident Britain, supporting Welsh and Gaelic signals respect for the past while investing in a cohesive future, turning potential division into strength.

Let us begin with Welsh, or Cymraeg, the ancient Celtic language that has clung tenaciously to the valleys and mountains of Wales despite centuries of suppression. Spoken by around 20% of the Welsh population today, it traces its roots back over 1,500 years, predating the Anglo-Saxon incursions that birthed English. Welsh is more than words; it's a cultural lifeline, embodied in the Eisteddfod, the grand festival of poetry, music, and performance that dates back to the 12th century. The National Eisteddfod, alternating between north and south Wales each year, is a vibrant celebration of Cymraeg, drawing thousands to compete in bardic arts and fostering new generations of speakers. As one observer notes, the Eisteddfod "has an important contribution to make by increasing the numbers that are able to speak the language and providing opportunities for people to use Welsh in everyday life." It's a testament to how such events preserve not just vocabulary, but the soul of a nation, underscoring the role of Celtic languages in British cultural identity and art.vocal.media

The poet R.S. Thomas, a fierce advocate for Welsh identity, captured this essence in his work. Though he wrote primarily in English, Thomas lamented the anglicisation of Wales and championed Cymraeg as essential to cultural survival. He once described the Welsh landscape as inseparable from its language, warning that without it, "there is no present in Wales, and no future." His views underscore a broader truth: minority languages like Welsh enrich our national life by preserving unique perspectives. As a report on Celtic languages highlights, both Welsh and its kin "represent the two main regional minority languages" of the UK, vital for maintaining cultural diversity amid modern pressures. Indeed, their preservation is key to linguistic diversity in the UK, fostering a sense of belonging that bolsters national confidence.

Turning northward, Scots Gaelic, or Gàidhlig, tells the ancient tales of the Highlands and Islands. Once the dominant tongue of Scotland, it now clings to life with around 57,000 speakers, thanks in part to efforts like Gaelic-medium education. This language, brought by Irish settlers in the 5th century, is deeply rooted in Scotland's identity, as an official language alongside English. It's the voice of clans, crofts, and ceilidhs, carrying folklore that English alone cannot convey. Critics like David Mitchell have mused on its decline, calling it a "pity" but not the end of the world, yet this understates its value. Gaelic connects us to a pre-Union Scotland, reminding us of our archipelago's layered past. In the words of one commentator, the revival of such languages counters the "great cultural loss" inflicted by assimilation. As a symbol of resistance and heritage, it mirrors how languages like Irish Gaelic have shaped national struggles, reinforcing identity against external forces.

Closely related but distinct is Scots, the Lowland counterpart often dismissed as mere dialect but recognised as a language in its own right. Spoken by over 1.5 million, it evolved from Old English and Norse influences, thriving in everyday speech and literature. Robert Burns, the Bard of Ayrshire, elevated Scots to poetic heights with works like "A Man's a Man for A' That" and "Tam o' Shanter." Burns didn't just use Scots; he celebrated it as the heart of Scottish expression. In "To a Mouse," he writes in rich Scots: "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft agley," a line that captures universal truths in a uniquely Scottish idiom. His advocacy for the language is implicit in his choice to write in it, proving that Scots adds flavour and authenticity to our shared heritage. As one analysis notes, Burns' use of Scots words like "swankies" (young lads) and "crouse" (bold) showcases its vibrancy.

In the northeast, Doric emerges as a robust variant of Scots, spoken in Aberdeen and the Grampians. Known for its guttural charm, "Far dis it come fae?" meaning "Where does it come from?", Doric derives from the Anglo-Saxon roots that shaped much of Scotland's tongue. Often called Scotland's "fourth language," it reflects rural purity, akin to ancient Greek Doric distinguishing itself from Athenian refinement. Its persistence highlights how regional dialects foster local pride, binding communities in ways standard English cannot.

Across the water in Northern Ireland, Ulster Scots - or Ullans - bridges Scottish and Irish influences, born from 17th-century plantations. With tens of thousands of speakers, it's a badge of Ulster identity, recognised under the European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages. James Orr, the "Bard of Ballycarry," was its foremost poet, weaving revolutionary zeal into Ulster Scots verse. A United Irishman and contemporary of Burns, Orr's work like "The Irishman" champions the oppressed: "The fient a care tho' death sud whirl me / To war's high field in gory hurly." His poetry demonstrates how Ulster Scots captures the raw emotion of rebellion and resilience, making it indispensable to UK history.

These languages are not relics; they are culture incarnate. As Ian Jack reflected, while questioning the revival of Gaelic, he acknowledged Scots and Ulster Scots as vital, if dialectal, expressions of identity. They preserve literatures that English translations dilute, Burns' humour, Thomas' introspection, Orr's defiance. A Reform UK government, and politicians in the devolved assemblies, committed to sovereignty and tradition, should support education, media, and festivals in these tongues. This isn't pandering; it's patriotism.

Reform UK, under leaders like Nigel Farage, emphasises British values without apology. Yet true pride embraces our islands' diversity, the Celts, Picts, Anglo-Saxons, and more. By supporting these languages, we affirm our histories, making the UK a confident whole. Only then can we expect immigrants to assimilate, as Huguenots did in the 17th century, adopting our ways while enriching them. Without such confidence, integration falters; newcomers sense a nation unsure of itself. We should not leave such things to the socialist nationalists of Plaid Cymru and the SNP.

In conclusion, language is history, as Starkey implies, and history is our strength. A Reform government must nurture Welsh, Gaelic, Scots, Ulster Scots, and Doric alongside English dialects, fostering unity through diversity. For in the words of these tongues lie our stories, our songs, our soul. Let us speak to them proudly, and invite the world to join the chorus.