"I’ll burn my turf": The fight to save an enduring tradition in Leitrim

Turf cutting has long been a tradition in Ireland, deeply rooted in rural life, and remains a necessity for many households relying on it for heating. However, recent government initiatives aimed at re-wilding and environmental preservation have sparked heated debates. Aidan Wynne from Drumshanbo, Leitrim, is one of the many rural voices speaking out, defending a practice he sees as essential to his way of life.

Wynne’s family has been cutting turf for generations, a practice passed down since the time of his great-great-grandfather. For him, turf cutting is not just a means of survival but a way of life that holds his community together. He is particularly critical of government efforts to re-wet peatlands and promote re-wilding, measures designed to restore bogs and curb carbon emissions.

“It’s the biggest scam you’ll ever see, part of an EU agenda,” Wynne argues. “People forget where food comes from. You can’t farm on rewilded land that’s turned into a swamp.”
He also questions the push to phase out turf in favour of alternative energy sources, citing the financial burden on ordinary people. “They’re replacing turf with oil, which is even more expensive. If a world war broke out and oil or gas became scarce, what would we use then?”

Wynne is particularly frustrated with the role of Bòrd na Móna, the semi-state company once responsible for large-scale peat extraction. He blames them, alongside government policies, for the extensive damage done to Ireland’s bogs. “Bòrd na Móna caused more destruction in one day than all the small turf cutters in Ireland combined. Now they’ve shifted from brown to green.”

Wynne also feels that external pressures from Europe are driving these restrictions, arguing that EU environmental policies are shaping local decisions in Ireland.

“Small turf cutters only skim the surface of the bog. We’re not the ones doing the damage. How is it right to import briquettes from Latvia and Lithuania, when we have the resources here?” he asks.

His frustrations extend to the government’s overall approach to agriculture and the environment. Wynne recalls the devastation caused by ash dieback, a disease introduced in 2013 after the government approved the importation of ash trees. “The Minister for Agriculture is responsible for that. If they keep importing peat, they’ll bring in some bug or disease that’ll destroy our bogs too.”

This disconnect between policymakers and rural communities, according to Wynne, poses a significant threat to traditional ways of life. He believes that government ministers, particularly Éamon Ryan, the Minister for the Environment, are out of touch with the struggles faced by farmers. “They don’t understand how things work in rural Ireland. Farmers feed the country, and that seems to be forgotten.”

At the core of his argument is a belief in the right to cut turf—a right he sees as divinely ordained. “It’s a God-given right to cut turf. Who created the bogs? God did,” Wynne asserts. For many in rural Ireland, like those in Leitrim, Wynne’s sentiments resonate deeply. His words reflect the growing tension between national environmental policies and the cultural traditions that have sustained Irish families for generations. As the debate over turf cutting continues, voices like Wynne's remain deep rooted.