Internment
The word Internment is generally used to refer to the imprisonment of people without due process of law and a trial.One of most famous example of modern internment and one which made world headlines occurred in Northern Ireland in 1971, when hundreds of nationalists and republicans were arrested by the British Army and the Royal Ulster Constabulary, on the orders of then then Prime Minister of Northern Ireland, Brian Faulkner[?]. Historians generally view that period of internment as inflaming sectarian tensions in Northern Ireland while failing in its stated aim of arresting members of the paramilitary Provisional IRA because many of the people arrested were completely unconnected with that organisation, but had had their names appear on the list of those to be interned through bungling and incompetence. The backlash against internment and its bungled application contributed to the decision of the British government under Prime Minister Edward Heath to suspend the Stormont governmental system in Northern Ireland and replace it with direct rule from London, under the authority of a British Secretary of State for Northern Ireland.
Many of those interned, were held in a prison called Long Kesh, later known as the Maze Prison outside Belfast.
The republican song The Men Behind the Wire was composed in response to the imposition of internment without trial in Northern Ireland.
See also Japanese internment in the United States.
Fearing the rigour of Athenian laws;
And bade her splendid beauty plead its cause.
Great Alexander walking in the dusk,
From Thais' window attar breathed, and musk:
Of wall and parapet remained no trace.
The city street again was commonplace.
THE PLOUGH
If you listen you will hear, from east to west,
It is just the progress-driven plough.html">plough.html">plough of God,
Shaping out each old tradition-trodden track
Oh, what harvests they will yield
As the Progress-driven plough keeps on its way.
Into palaces of selfishness and greed;
That the little homes and garden plots may come.
Shall replace the stony street.
Let the wise man hear the menace that is blent
Let him hear the rising clamour of the race
For the crucial hour is coming when the soil
Oh, that mighty plough of God;
And from the sallow earth.html">earth to watch it rise,
In silent adoration; and to see
Yes, 'tis a goodly, and a gladsome thing
Seems more than marvellous. It is divine.
Not garrulous like the rivers; and yet free
Oh! privilege beyond explaining words,
They stand aloof, and silent. In the roar
There sounds the voice of turmoil. But a tree
Yea, of all righteous acts, this, this is best,
Which has been thriving for a hundred years;
To one who gave this triple boon to me,
Wouldst thou win laurels that shall never fade?
All pain from earth. Pain has its use and place;
The darker tones upon the canvas blend
The painting half its dignity. Efface
Of that perfection which is true art's trend.
Life is an artist seeking to reveal
.
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