Yr Iaith is Welsh for The Language. It's one letter away from the English word Faith. At least I reckon it is. There are some who'll suggest that Languages which become vulnerable should be allowed to whither and die. Others will suggest that social cohesion depends upon a shared language, the Tower of Babel a punishment upon us people and we should all speak with one tongue, kind of like a garden with only one variety of plant, all of them Dandelion perhaps.
In the end, the issue is one of obedience to the Gods of Income. The problem is
as much a man with sword as it is a man with a different language, a different
sound, a different music, a different color. The other problem is those who
might insist that we can do better, live in polite pluralistic harmony. And the
thing about that is we don't, never have been able to, probably never will be
able to. Which is why our heroic hero chooses sides. Call him tribal if you have
to, or a Baboon. It's up to you.