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The past is always present in Cape Breton, caught in the ocean mists, touched by the spirit of tribalism, of clan, and by a sense of belonging and knowing just what belongs where. Which is why the old Highland Gael families have donned their kilts and sharpened their battle axes and gone to war, metaphorically speaking, over the Gaelic College in Cape Breton’s decision to attach “Royal” to its name after writing a letter to the Queen in September requesting the special designation, a request that was granted just before Christmas.

There has been hell to pay around the Highlands ever since.

“People who were Gaelic speaking came to Cape Breton after the Battle of Culloden [in 1746] and people will say, ‘Well, what’s the connection to the Crown?’” says Mr. MacMaster.

“In the Battle of Culloden, the Duke of Cumberland, known as the Bloody Butcher for the atrocities he committed after that battle, including changing the terms so there would be no quarter or no mercy for anybody, was the son of King George II.

“The Crown of England, ultimately, has tried to colonize areas and tried to ethnically cleanse the people who are there and so calling us — The Royal Gaelic College — is like going to a Mi’kmaq person in Nova Scotia and saying, ‘Oh, by the way, we are going to call your cultural centre, The Royal Cornwallis Cultural Centre [Edward Cornwallis, the first governor of Nova Scotia, paid bounties for Mi’kmaq scalps], and the past is the past so get over it.’