Check this out also at The Irish Times site
It must be terribly hard for TDs and Senators. Being bundled like that out of the public eye for the whole summer. We all felt so sorry for them yesterday, to see them look so obviously glum and heavy-hearted as they nosed their BMWs out of the gates of Leinster House and headed off for ten weeks of idleness. They will be deprived of work and will have nothing to do to occupy thier time between now and September 24. It’s a hard station, we know. But (deep mournful intake of breath) it’s the life they have chosen.
My own first week working as a specialist political journalist was in August 2003. Arriving to work in Leinster House was like a GAA correspondent being assigned to Croke Park the Tuesday after an All Ireland football final. The political atmosphere was as spent as the PDs. We still had a paper to fill. It was thankless. Scrounging around for stories. Hoping that the odd TD playing golf at Playa de Nouveau Riche or at their Atlantic-hugging holiday home might have bothered to leave their mobiles on.
That autumn and the following spring a couple of the parties produced very impressive policy papers calling for Oireachtas reform. In the Senate, Mary O’Rourke was driving an all-party initiative to refrom that often entertaining, hugely interesting, but ultimately next-to-useless talking shop, the Seanad. It was great. And they kept on coming, the reform papers, throughout the period of the 29th Dáil. And how lovely they looked on the shelves. The same shelves already piled high with reform proposals for the 28th and the 27th and 26th Dáil…. ad infinitum.
Look at the Programme for Government. Look at the promises (included, the Greens say, at their insistence) to reform the Seanad and the Dáil. Note that a year has passed. Note that four years remain. Note that almost the exactly same promises will be contained in the next Programme for Government, for the 32st Dail whenever that might be.
This is not cynicism. It’s just stating a reality. A long time ago a Fine Gael TD Alice Glenn said that getting political parties to reduce the number of TDs and Senators would be like asking turkeys to vote for Christmas. The first instinct of the political class is self-preservation. It is undeniable that the life is precarious. But the buffer zone they have created for itself is breath-takingly impressive. The Dáil sat for a total of 94 days in the 2007-2008 period. That total of sitting days has stayed unforgibably low (93 days in 2005; 96 in 2006 and 74 in the election year of 2007) despite promises each year to increase them. The House of Commons sits an average of 130 days each year. The US Congress is in session 160 days a year, almost twice as much as the Dáil. By the way, the Seanad sat on only 86 days in this political year.
The Oireachtas is also the legislature. A paltry total of 25 Bills have been passed since the Government returned a year ago. And some of these were standard bills that crop up every year like the Finance Bill, the Social Welfare Bill and the Motor Vehicle Duties Bill, all which give effect to budgetary changes. Some were necessary to give statutory effect in Ireland to European directives. Two of the bills corrected legal flaws in earlier bills. So we had the law-makers come up with a desolatory handfull of bills this year - the Immigration Bill, the Dublin Transportation Authority Bill, the Intoxicating Liquer Bill.
We don’t need to go into pay and expenses but the average basic salary for a TD is now well over €100,000. We have a total of 35 minister, 166 TDs and 60 Senators, pro rata way way more than any of our EU counterarts. And there are only two established Government backbenchers (Ned O’Keeffe and Jim McDaid) who don’t get some extra stipend for chairing or whipping committees.
Oh sorry, the committees sit during the summer, we are told. Erm, most of them will sit once, if that. That means that members (and they don’t all show up) have to come in one or two days during the summer just to show Joe Punter out there that it’s still ticking over, that the show is on the road.
Recession? What recession?
Showing posts with label Dail. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dail. Show all posts
Friday, July 11, 2008
Sunday, October 21, 2007
INSIDE POLITICS - POST 233
This is my 233rd post since I set up this blog on November 1 last year. Environmentally, some of the posts have adhered to the first principle of recycling in that they have re-used (after appearing in the Examiner).
It's a Sunday evening just before 6pm and I am working from home. The really strange thing is when I go into the office tomorrow, it will be a faceless and sterile office that's at least the length of a Brendan Cummins puck-out (the Tipp hurling goalkeeper) from Leinster House.
I ended up staying in the office until after 8pm on Friday, packing files and reports, and various bits of bric and brac. I'm going to miss it (see last Thursday's post on moving here)
Anyway, earlier today when doing a bit of dawdling, I went back to the very first post I wrote. It was November 1 last year, almost a year ago. As it happens, that old rickety room right at the top of Leinster House is a star in it!
Here it is in all its glory:
It's a Sunday evening just before 6pm and I am working from home. The really strange thing is when I go into the office tomorrow, it will be a faceless and sterile office that's at least the length of a Brendan Cummins puck-out (the Tipp hurling goalkeeper) from Leinster House.
I ended up staying in the office until after 8pm on Friday, packing files and reports, and various bits of bric and brac. I'm going to miss it (see last Thursday's post on moving here)
Anyway, earlier today when doing a bit of dawdling, I went back to the very first post I wrote. It was November 1 last year, almost a year ago. As it happens, that old rickety room right at the top of Leinster House is a star in it!
Here it is in all its glory:
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Tuesday 21 November 2007
It's 6.40pm on Tuesday evening in Leinster House. In our perch in the crow's nest at the top of the building, life is moving as slowly as a sloth whose drink has been spiked with rohypnol.
Out there beyond the lawns, beyond the city, beyond Dublin Bay, beyond the shores, there's a wider world. An anti-Syrian poltician in Lebanon has been assassinated. A Russian spy, cum refusenik, is fighting for his life in London after being poisoned by thalium. The situation in Darfur is depressing. And Iraq is Iraq - we seem innured to it nowadays unless hundreds are killed.
Here, though, there are more important fish to fry. In the television in the corner of the room, a live feed from the Dail chamber is busily churning out mostly useless verbiage. TDS are debating the Book of Estimates (Government spending plans for 2007) which was published last week. Someone is talking about AA Roadwatch and the westlink. I'm pretty sure that soon Charlie O'Connor will rise to his feet and make a long speech about Tallaght. When Tip O'Neill coined the phrase 'All politics is local', I'm sure he had the Irish parliament in mind.
When Albert Reynolds finally fell on his sword as Taoiseach, he complained that it was the little things that trip you up. That shouldn't have been any surprise. Because the little things dominate political and media discourse here to an inordinate extent. We sometimes forget how small Ireland is. The population of the entire country is less than that of many medium size cities in the US. And going back to AA Roadwatch, when you hear references to 'Hanlon's Corner' and the Red Cow Roundabout on national radio, you know about how, erm, intimate a place Ireland is.
Yep, it's as dead as vaudeville, to employ the glorious Raymond Chandler line.
A very brief introduction. I am the political editor of the Irish Examiner.
A very brief brief for this blog: Running commentary on politics.
A very brief summary of the choice of day to start it: inauspicious.
It will improve though. There is, despite the general sense of indolence here, an election in six month's time. And next week's Budget will provide - as we hacks love to write - the opening volleys etc etc.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
INSIDE POLITICS - ANORAK WEATHER
After a couple weeks of clear blue skies, the mists started to fall yesterday and we found ourselves back in familiar climatic (more like bloody anti-climatic) conditions.
There are a couple ways you can observe that poor weather is on the way. One is a red sky at morning. Another is a dog eating grass. But perhaps the best one of all is Bertie Ahern telling the Dail that the Health budget has increased from E3 billion in 1997 to E14 billion today.
The moment you hear that, be advised that you need to run for cover. For you know that you are going to be drowned by an endless drizzle of statistics.
Once Bertie Ahern replies to a question by reading out a note written for him by a civil servant, beware! It's anorak weather.
It’s ceaseless stuff: BreastCheck is available in 15 counties. There’s high voluntary screening activity. The budget is E14 billion a year across 120,000. A 1% control of that is a small amount. There are enormous resources being put into the health servic3es. Most of that is for staff. There are 120,000 of them. The budget is E14 billion. Just in case you were not aware, the budget is E14 million. And by the way there are 120,000 staff.
That’s why they call him Anorak Man, because he needs to wear one to protect him from the deluge of information he gives out.
Yesterday’s Leaders Questions was as dull and dispiriting as the first damp evening after the clock goes back an hour.
The subject being debated was actually vitally important; the
heart-rending story of Susie Long who died last Monday. Both opposition leaders Enda Kenny and Eamon Gilmore raised her case and the fact that as a public patient she had to wait months for a scan that a private patient got in three days.
The problem for Enda Kenny is that it’s better to play the direct ball when asking the Taoiseach a question. Give him a selection of topics to address and instead of avoiding just one question he will avoid the lot, instead providing a bewildering array of statistics and non sequiturs.
In fairness, the Taoiseach had a couple of points to make. But he spluttered worse than a damaged exhaust and it was hard to know what he was talking about. He did say it was regrettable that Susie Long had been let down by the health services. But he argued that it wasn’t because she was a public patient. A doctor referring an urgent public case to the hospital for a colonoscopy would get priority. But as Eamon Gilmore pointed out how would you know what case was urgent until it the test was done.
The other point I think he made is that we shouldn’t lose sight of the woods for the trees, that the overall performance of a behemoth of a service like the HSE should not be judged solely on a number of individual cases or discrete problem areas.
At least I think he made it. Blue sky thinking it certainly was not.
There are a couple ways you can observe that poor weather is on the way. One is a red sky at morning. Another is a dog eating grass. But perhaps the best one of all is Bertie Ahern telling the Dail that the Health budget has increased from E3 billion in 1997 to E14 billion today.
The moment you hear that, be advised that you need to run for cover. For you know that you are going to be drowned by an endless drizzle of statistics.
Once Bertie Ahern replies to a question by reading out a note written for him by a civil servant, beware! It's anorak weather.
It’s ceaseless stuff: BreastCheck is available in 15 counties. There’s high voluntary screening activity. The budget is E14 billion a year across 120,000. A 1% control of that is a small amount. There are enormous resources being put into the health servic3es. Most of that is for staff. There are 120,000 of them. The budget is E14 billion. Just in case you were not aware, the budget is E14 million. And by the way there are 120,000 staff.
That’s why they call him Anorak Man, because he needs to wear one to protect him from the deluge of information he gives out.
Yesterday’s Leaders Questions was as dull and dispiriting as the first damp evening after the clock goes back an hour.
The subject being debated was actually vitally important; the
heart-rending story of Susie Long who died last Monday. Both opposition leaders Enda Kenny and Eamon Gilmore raised her case and the fact that as a public patient she had to wait months for a scan that a private patient got in three days.
The problem for Enda Kenny is that it’s better to play the direct ball when asking the Taoiseach a question. Give him a selection of topics to address and instead of avoiding just one question he will avoid the lot, instead providing a bewildering array of statistics and non sequiturs.
In fairness, the Taoiseach had a couple of points to make. But he spluttered worse than a damaged exhaust and it was hard to know what he was talking about. He did say it was regrettable that Susie Long had been let down by the health services. But he argued that it wasn’t because she was a public patient. A doctor referring an urgent public case to the hospital for a colonoscopy would get priority. But as Eamon Gilmore pointed out how would you know what case was urgent until it the test was done.
The other point I think he made is that we shouldn’t lose sight of the woods for the trees, that the overall performance of a behemoth of a service like the HSE should not be judged solely on a number of individual cases or discrete problem areas.
At least I think he made it. Blue sky thinking it certainly was not.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Nobody actually openly accused Bertie Ahern of lying yesterday. But if you were to look up a thesaurus, you’d find that just about every possible alternative word for ‘lie’ was used by Enda Kenny and Eamon Gilmore when describing the Taoiseach’s evidence to the Mahon Tribunal.
There is a basic rule in the Dáil. The ‘L’ word may never be uttered. In the past, we have seen some creative words and phrases being employed: dissembling; misleading the Dail; untruth; ‘being economical with the truth’.
But yesterday was of a different order. The L word was never uttered. But during the motion of confidence – and let’s make no mistake about – it was clearly meant. There was to be no softening of the blows. To all intents and purposes – but without every actually saying so – Kenny and Gilmore accused the Taoiseach of lying and lying and lying again.
During a heated, angry and self-evidently bitter debate on the motion of confidence in the Taoiseach – the first motion brought since one against Albert Reynolds in November 1994 – Ahern found himself being accused of giving incredible accounts, of fabricating, of not being credible, of creating smoke screens, of gelling bizarre and shifting tales. And all of this was said under oath, during his 18 hours of evidence to the Tribunal.
The charges that Kenny and Gilmore laid were far more serious, far graver than most of us had anticipated. Not alone did they accuse him of the L word. They claimed that most of the events that he has based his entire defence on never took place. They contended that events recalled by Ahern in interviews and under oath to the Tribunal – the famous Manchester dinner, the dig-out from friends, the Michael Wall payment, the purchase of £30,000 sterling – never took place.
This was the core of Kenny’s argument in one of the best speeches he has made since he becoming leder: “Most of the events we were discussing never happened. In my view, in my opinion, they’re fictitious. Complicated stories, part of a web of complicated stories designed to mask hard facts. Constructed stories to fit known facts.”
Phew! That was strong stuff and potentially as corrosive as sulphuric acid. And though he didn’t say it either, what Kenny also suggested that Ahern was on the take when he lodged amounts between 1993 and 1995 that equated to €300,000 in today’s terms.
“We have heard no credible explanation from the Taoiseach for these lodgements. In the absence of such an explanation the deep suspicion must remain that these lodgements were a result of personal contributions made to the Taoiseach.”
And in a speech designed to – and which probably did – get under Ahern’s craw, Kenny quoted lines from Des O’Malley (“I stand by the Republic”) and Jack Lynch (“we cannot stand idly by”) to make unfavourable comparisons to Ahern. He also quoted from Charlie Haughey to make even more unfavourable comparisons.
Gilmore, making his maiden speech as the new Labour leader, went over the same ground. He recalled the Taoiseach recalling next to nothing about the dinner in Manchester and then pointed out that Ahern claimed on the Late Late Show in 1998 that one of his best attributes was a good memory.”
His recurring theme – in a speech that was serious and under-stated - was that he did not believe Ahern, that the Taoiseach was making up cock and bull stories.
“I don’t believe him. Most of his own deputies don’t believe him and the public clearly doesn’t’ believe him either,” was a phrase that was uttered more than once.
And this is Taoiseach’s big quandary. There’s a serious credibility problem there that can’t be explained by unusual circumstances or his marriage break-down or by what he described as his ‘unorthodox affairs’ during his marital separation in the 1990s.
Yesterday he again urged people to read the 18 hours of transcript. But anyone who reads it will be no clearer about all those information and credibility gaps. If anything they will be bewildered and more confused.
He – and all his Ministers who spoke – also argued that there was not a scintilla of proof to back up the central allegation made by Tom Gilmartin that he took payments from Owen O’Callaghan.
Joe Higgins was spot-on last week when describing the use of this particular blatant diversionary tactic. Higgins gloriously employed a famous Bertie-ism to describe Bertie dragging Owen O'Callaghan and Tom Gilmartin in:
But it’s not about Tom Gilmartin any more. It’s about all these odd transactions, all these unremembered and half-remembered sterling and Irish sums passing through accounts controlled by him. And why his explanation of them is of the ‘the dog has eaten my homework’ type.
He was effective in pointing out the belated courage of both Fine Gael and Labour in going for his political jugular. “One day they blow hot and the next day they blow cold. Last May to them due process was an excuse not to comment but today, political accountability is the pretext for their questioning.”
He repeated his defence against allegations made in the Tribunal, rebutting allegations that he had delayed or not cooperated or dissembled. But it’s all a bit conditional. He said he waived confidentiality on bank documents and consented to the Tribunal obtaining discovery against AIB. But he forgot to mention yesterday that he only did so when forced to by the opposition.
And as for changing his evidence he asserted: “The fundamental of my evidence have remained the same. I have added some detail and elaborated in some areas for reasons which I shall explain…. It is a matter of reality that one’s recollection can be helped as new information comes to light.”
And in a day where little love was lost, where both sides strongly signalled that the 30th Dail will be a tenser, colder House, he accused his political foes of “stretching the available evidence with malign invention.”
The thrust of the Government defence, put most passionately by Tánaiste Brian Cowen in the closing speech (and boy does he sound like leader-designate) the opposition were hypocrites in that they had only discovered high standards and morality after the election, where before polling day they back-pedalled from BertieGate more quickly than a professional cyclist on dope.
“I know right from wrong. And the Tribunal will be the arbitrer. If we are to avoid arbitrary justice let the Tribunal proceed with its deliberations.”
Ahern sat through it all, uncomfortably. It’s clear he finds it all, as he said in his speech, unseemly and intrusive. For him once no evidence is adduced of payments from Owen O’Callaghan, the rest is nobody’s business. The payments were, as he put it, being “assisted by friends”. In his moral compass, he did nothing wrong. He made a big deal of paying back €100,000 but he only did that when he had to (in 2006), when the outing of the payments last year forced him to do that.
And if he was uncomfortable, the Greens seemed to be squirming in their seats. Trevor Sargent, Eamon Ryan, Ciaran Cuffe and Mareey White didn’t clap at the end of Ahern’s speech as the loyal FFers did, but we were later told that nothing turned on that. The opposition reminded the party of how quickly it had rolled down from the high moral ground into the swamp. Trevor Sargents excoriations of FF in the run-up to the election campaign were recalled. And when John Gormley finally made an appearance in the chamber shortly after 8pm, he said little more than he would wait until the Tribunal reported. He then resorted to the magician’s trick of misdirection by reciting Green policy objectives in Government. There are times to talk about climate change but last nights was not one of them.
The L word was never used. They didn’t have to. This was the most serious attack Ahern faced in 30 years of politics. Strategically, the Government banked completely on the Tribunal report. When it does report (will it be next year or 2009?) if it criticises him to any serious extent, he will be a goner. One senior Green Party person thought privately that it might be as soon as the Christmas break.
We have all gone through the disconnect between the media and Joe Schmo out there. But no matter how you look at this one, Bertie Ahern has been damaged.
There is a basic rule in the Dáil. The ‘L’ word may never be uttered. In the past, we have seen some creative words and phrases being employed: dissembling; misleading the Dail; untruth; ‘being economical with the truth’.
But yesterday was of a different order. The L word was never uttered. But during the motion of confidence – and let’s make no mistake about – it was clearly meant. There was to be no softening of the blows. To all intents and purposes – but without every actually saying so – Kenny and Gilmore accused the Taoiseach of lying and lying and lying again.
During a heated, angry and self-evidently bitter debate on the motion of confidence in the Taoiseach – the first motion brought since one against Albert Reynolds in November 1994 – Ahern found himself being accused of giving incredible accounts, of fabricating, of not being credible, of creating smoke screens, of gelling bizarre and shifting tales. And all of this was said under oath, during his 18 hours of evidence to the Tribunal.
The charges that Kenny and Gilmore laid were far more serious, far graver than most of us had anticipated. Not alone did they accuse him of the L word. They claimed that most of the events that he has based his entire defence on never took place. They contended that events recalled by Ahern in interviews and under oath to the Tribunal – the famous Manchester dinner, the dig-out from friends, the Michael Wall payment, the purchase of £30,000 sterling – never took place.
This was the core of Kenny’s argument in one of the best speeches he has made since he becoming leder: “Most of the events we were discussing never happened. In my view, in my opinion, they’re fictitious. Complicated stories, part of a web of complicated stories designed to mask hard facts. Constructed stories to fit known facts.”
Phew! That was strong stuff and potentially as corrosive as sulphuric acid. And though he didn’t say it either, what Kenny also suggested that Ahern was on the take when he lodged amounts between 1993 and 1995 that equated to €300,000 in today’s terms.
“We have heard no credible explanation from the Taoiseach for these lodgements. In the absence of such an explanation the deep suspicion must remain that these lodgements were a result of personal contributions made to the Taoiseach.”
And in a speech designed to – and which probably did – get under Ahern’s craw, Kenny quoted lines from Des O’Malley (“I stand by the Republic”) and Jack Lynch (“we cannot stand idly by”) to make unfavourable comparisons to Ahern. He also quoted from Charlie Haughey to make even more unfavourable comparisons.
Gilmore, making his maiden speech as the new Labour leader, went over the same ground. He recalled the Taoiseach recalling next to nothing about the dinner in Manchester and then pointed out that Ahern claimed on the Late Late Show in 1998 that one of his best attributes was a good memory.”
His recurring theme – in a speech that was serious and under-stated - was that he did not believe Ahern, that the Taoiseach was making up cock and bull stories.
“I don’t believe him. Most of his own deputies don’t believe him and the public clearly doesn’t’ believe him either,” was a phrase that was uttered more than once.
And this is Taoiseach’s big quandary. There’s a serious credibility problem there that can’t be explained by unusual circumstances or his marriage break-down or by what he described as his ‘unorthodox affairs’ during his marital separation in the 1990s.
Yesterday he again urged people to read the 18 hours of transcript. But anyone who reads it will be no clearer about all those information and credibility gaps. If anything they will be bewildered and more confused.
He – and all his Ministers who spoke – also argued that there was not a scintilla of proof to back up the central allegation made by Tom Gilmartin that he took payments from Owen O’Callaghan.
Joe Higgins was spot-on last week when describing the use of this particular blatant diversionary tactic. Higgins gloriously employed a famous Bertie-ism to describe Bertie dragging Owen O'Callaghan and Tom Gilmartin in:
“It’s throwing red herrings at white elephants.”
But it’s not about Tom Gilmartin any more. It’s about all these odd transactions, all these unremembered and half-remembered sterling and Irish sums passing through accounts controlled by him. And why his explanation of them is of the ‘the dog has eaten my homework’ type.
He was effective in pointing out the belated courage of both Fine Gael and Labour in going for his political jugular. “One day they blow hot and the next day they blow cold. Last May to them due process was an excuse not to comment but today, political accountability is the pretext for their questioning.”
He repeated his defence against allegations made in the Tribunal, rebutting allegations that he had delayed or not cooperated or dissembled. But it’s all a bit conditional. He said he waived confidentiality on bank documents and consented to the Tribunal obtaining discovery against AIB. But he forgot to mention yesterday that he only did so when forced to by the opposition.
And as for changing his evidence he asserted: “The fundamental of my evidence have remained the same. I have added some detail and elaborated in some areas for reasons which I shall explain…. It is a matter of reality that one’s recollection can be helped as new information comes to light.”
And in a day where little love was lost, where both sides strongly signalled that the 30th Dail will be a tenser, colder House, he accused his political foes of “stretching the available evidence with malign invention.”
The thrust of the Government defence, put most passionately by Tánaiste Brian Cowen in the closing speech (and boy does he sound like leader-designate) the opposition were hypocrites in that they had only discovered high standards and morality after the election, where before polling day they back-pedalled from BertieGate more quickly than a professional cyclist on dope.
“I know right from wrong. And the Tribunal will be the arbitrer. If we are to avoid arbitrary justice let the Tribunal proceed with its deliberations.”
Ahern sat through it all, uncomfortably. It’s clear he finds it all, as he said in his speech, unseemly and intrusive. For him once no evidence is adduced of payments from Owen O’Callaghan, the rest is nobody’s business. The payments were, as he put it, being “assisted by friends”. In his moral compass, he did nothing wrong. He made a big deal of paying back €100,000 but he only did that when he had to (in 2006), when the outing of the payments last year forced him to do that.
And if he was uncomfortable, the Greens seemed to be squirming in their seats. Trevor Sargent, Eamon Ryan, Ciaran Cuffe and Mareey White didn’t clap at the end of Ahern’s speech as the loyal FFers did, but we were later told that nothing turned on that. The opposition reminded the party of how quickly it had rolled down from the high moral ground into the swamp. Trevor Sargents excoriations of FF in the run-up to the election campaign were recalled. And when John Gormley finally made an appearance in the chamber shortly after 8pm, he said little more than he would wait until the Tribunal reported. He then resorted to the magician’s trick of misdirection by reciting Green policy objectives in Government. There are times to talk about climate change but last nights was not one of them.
The L word was never used. They didn’t have to. This was the most serious attack Ahern faced in 30 years of politics. Strategically, the Government banked completely on the Tribunal report. When it does report (will it be next year or 2009?) if it criticises him to any serious extent, he will be a goner. One senior Green Party person thought privately that it might be as soon as the Christmas break.
We have all gone through the disconnect between the media and Joe Schmo out there. But no matter how you look at this one, Bertie Ahern has been damaged.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
INSIDE POLITICS - THE FINAL MOMENTS
By midnight on the night of the election count, it was clear that Fianna Fail would need to court the support of others if it wanted to get back into Government.
The party had done astoundingly well but even with its impressive haul of 78 seats was tantalisingly close but not quite there. To put it in a mountaineering vein, Everest is 8,850 metres high but the last few hundred metres is the hardest.
It was hardly a unique position for Fianna Fáil to find itself in. They were a couple short five years ago. But then the PDs had eight TDs and that was never going to be a problem. And they also found themselves coming up short in 1997. And it’s those events of ten years ago that makes the courting of the Greens so remarkable.
Bertie Ahern’s first election as leader of Fianna Fail saw the party win 77 seats. The PDs hit a bit of a trough that time, returning only four. The combined strength of both parties was 81. The situation facing Fianna Fail a decade later is uncannily similar. Granted, together they have one less at 80. But now, as then, there are enough independents there to allow them forge a deal.
So why have they worked so hard to put together what amounts to the State’s first Fianna Fail-led Rainbow rather than relying only on the traditional props of the PDs and ‘like-minded independents’?
On the face of it, it’s hard to fathom. On the Sunday morning following the election, Bertie Ahern spoke of the PDs and the Independents being his first preference and the Greens being his clear second preference.
And that seemed to make sense. If you rewind to 1997, the consensus was that FF and the PDs could do it with only two gene pool deputies. In the event, they secured the support of four non-aligned TDs (but all with hues of Fianna Fail, from light to deep). Then, many people predicted the government would last a year. But it lasted five, without any real bother.
So why change such a winning arrangement? The PDs needed to be in Government in order to survive. And FF would just need to secure the services of only three independents (though only one with a provenance in the party).
For the Greens, last week’s marathon talks with Fianna Fail was their political coming of age. Forty hours of tough negotiations were grinding – and you could see the tiredness etched all over John Gormley and Dan Boyle’s face on Friday evening.
When they broke down after six days, a whole host of theories (benign, conspiracy and Machiavellian) started doing the rounds. One was that FF were only stringing the Greens along to make sure the independents didn’t demand too much in their separate negotiations? The other prime theory it was all designed to muddy the waters and allow FF to enter negotiations with its real target, the Labour Party. Pat Rabbitte committed his party to support Enda Kenny until the vote for Taoiseach on Thursday – after that all votes would be off.
But anyone who watched the body language of both parties on Friday evening knew there was something else afoot. At their press conference Greens looked exhausted, disappointed – as if the race had been run. But within half an hour, one of the FF negotiators Seamus Brennan was on RTE’s Six-One News. He was remarkably upbeat and positive and grabbed every available second to praise Trevor Sargent and the Greens. In the background, the Fianna Fail negotiators were sanguine and relaxed. It wasn’t all over. The Greens no longer had the deadline of the special meeting on Sunday looming over them. If they took a bit of time to reflect on it over the weekend, both sides could return for a second bite.
And that’s how it happened. Informal contacts continued over the weekend. And in a remarkable article in a Sunday newspaper, Bertie Ahern used language you would never imagine him using in his political career.
"I belive that an environmentally sustainable economy is the only way forward for Ireland and the planet."
Bertie Ahern? It could have been taken straight out of a Sargent speech. That was very significant. And there was more. FF were genuinely open to new ideas. In the problem areas like climate change, transport, health and education, – where all the “insurmountable” obstacles were– Fianna Fail believed that the Green Party’s policies were “not incompatible” with our own. John Gormley gave a clear signal on RTE Radio’s This Week programme that the Greens were willing to talk. Within minutes FF had contacted him. The game was back on.
The speed at which things resumed was as breath-taking as last week. Within hours the Greens had produced a paper on the areas where there were differences. By noon yesterday, Fianna Fail had responded. All afternoon, negotiators from both parties shuffled between their headquarters and the Dail to take part in a series of bilaterals and informal talks.
The parties began drafting a programme for government based on agreed areas. The ‘bit ticket’ areas where there was still contention were parked. And from early afternoon, it was clear that those issues would be thrashed out by two men, Bertie Ahern and Trevor Sargent.
Ahern arrived into Government buildings in late afternoon, departed for a short while and then returned. Shortly before 7pm, Sargent left his party headquarters to make the short ten minute walk to Leinster House. He was accompanied by general secretary Dónall Geoghegan. John Gormley cycled home to change his shirt. The third negotiator, Dan Boyle, in Leinster House. Gormley and Boyle said that there were still gaps, that it wasn’t a done deal.
“Close but no cigar,” said Boyle, summing up the delicate balance between success and failure.
But why did FF go to such efforts to woo the Greens if they didn’t really need them? It was nothing to do with filibustering. It was partly the security of numbers, certainly. But there was also a sense that 15 years of FF and the PD would make it into a tired unelectable government – that the Greens would give renewal and reinvigoration, make the government as a whole more attractive to the next generation.
And that's why later on this morning the Greens will walk out of Government Buildings with a deal.
A version of this appeared in this morning's Irish Examiner
The party had done astoundingly well but even with its impressive haul of 78 seats was tantalisingly close but not quite there. To put it in a mountaineering vein, Everest is 8,850 metres high but the last few hundred metres is the hardest.
It was hardly a unique position for Fianna Fáil to find itself in. They were a couple short five years ago. But then the PDs had eight TDs and that was never going to be a problem. And they also found themselves coming up short in 1997. And it’s those events of ten years ago that makes the courting of the Greens so remarkable.
Bertie Ahern’s first election as leader of Fianna Fail saw the party win 77 seats. The PDs hit a bit of a trough that time, returning only four. The combined strength of both parties was 81. The situation facing Fianna Fail a decade later is uncannily similar. Granted, together they have one less at 80. But now, as then, there are enough independents there to allow them forge a deal.
So why have they worked so hard to put together what amounts to the State’s first Fianna Fail-led Rainbow rather than relying only on the traditional props of the PDs and ‘like-minded independents’?
On the face of it, it’s hard to fathom. On the Sunday morning following the election, Bertie Ahern spoke of the PDs and the Independents being his first preference and the Greens being his clear second preference.
And that seemed to make sense. If you rewind to 1997, the consensus was that FF and the PDs could do it with only two gene pool deputies. In the event, they secured the support of four non-aligned TDs (but all with hues of Fianna Fail, from light to deep). Then, many people predicted the government would last a year. But it lasted five, without any real bother.
So why change such a winning arrangement? The PDs needed to be in Government in order to survive. And FF would just need to secure the services of only three independents (though only one with a provenance in the party).
For the Greens, last week’s marathon talks with Fianna Fail was their political coming of age. Forty hours of tough negotiations were grinding – and you could see the tiredness etched all over John Gormley and Dan Boyle’s face on Friday evening.
When they broke down after six days, a whole host of theories (benign, conspiracy and Machiavellian) started doing the rounds. One was that FF were only stringing the Greens along to make sure the independents didn’t demand too much in their separate negotiations? The other prime theory it was all designed to muddy the waters and allow FF to enter negotiations with its real target, the Labour Party. Pat Rabbitte committed his party to support Enda Kenny until the vote for Taoiseach on Thursday – after that all votes would be off.
But anyone who watched the body language of both parties on Friday evening knew there was something else afoot. At their press conference Greens looked exhausted, disappointed – as if the race had been run. But within half an hour, one of the FF negotiators Seamus Brennan was on RTE’s Six-One News. He was remarkably upbeat and positive and grabbed every available second to praise Trevor Sargent and the Greens. In the background, the Fianna Fail negotiators were sanguine and relaxed. It wasn’t all over. The Greens no longer had the deadline of the special meeting on Sunday looming over them. If they took a bit of time to reflect on it over the weekend, both sides could return for a second bite.
And that’s how it happened. Informal contacts continued over the weekend. And in a remarkable article in a Sunday newspaper, Bertie Ahern used language you would never imagine him using in his political career.
"I belive that an environmentally sustainable economy is the only way forward for Ireland and the planet."
Bertie Ahern? It could have been taken straight out of a Sargent speech. That was very significant. And there was more. FF were genuinely open to new ideas. In the problem areas like climate change, transport, health and education, – where all the “insurmountable” obstacles were– Fianna Fail believed that the Green Party’s policies were “not incompatible” with our own. John Gormley gave a clear signal on RTE Radio’s This Week programme that the Greens were willing to talk. Within minutes FF had contacted him. The game was back on.
The speed at which things resumed was as breath-taking as last week. Within hours the Greens had produced a paper on the areas where there were differences. By noon yesterday, Fianna Fail had responded. All afternoon, negotiators from both parties shuffled between their headquarters and the Dail to take part in a series of bilaterals and informal talks.
The parties began drafting a programme for government based on agreed areas. The ‘bit ticket’ areas where there was still contention were parked. And from early afternoon, it was clear that those issues would be thrashed out by two men, Bertie Ahern and Trevor Sargent.
Ahern arrived into Government buildings in late afternoon, departed for a short while and then returned. Shortly before 7pm, Sargent left his party headquarters to make the short ten minute walk to Leinster House. He was accompanied by general secretary Dónall Geoghegan. John Gormley cycled home to change his shirt. The third negotiator, Dan Boyle, in Leinster House. Gormley and Boyle said that there were still gaps, that it wasn’t a done deal.
“Close but no cigar,” said Boyle, summing up the delicate balance between success and failure.
But why did FF go to such efforts to woo the Greens if they didn’t really need them? It was nothing to do with filibustering. It was partly the security of numbers, certainly. But there was also a sense that 15 years of FF and the PD would make it into a tired unelectable government – that the Greens would give renewal and reinvigoration, make the government as a whole more attractive to the next generation.
And that's why later on this morning the Greens will walk out of Government Buildings with a deal.
A version of this appeared in this morning's Irish Examiner
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
INSIDE POLITICS - Gay Mitchell
When I came into the Dáil this morning, there was a letter in my pigeonhole from Gay Mitchell. It was the script of probably the last second stage contribution that the Fine Gael TD for Dublin South Central will make before he retires from the chamber after 26 years.
The speech was ostensibly about the Electoral Act. But conscious that it was a bit of a valedictory for him, Mitchell ranged far and wide, returning to a couple of his favourite themes - neutrality; compulsory national service and the need for Fine Gael to become a Christian Democrat party that appeals to 30% of the electorate. The corollary of that is that he is against it trying to be a catch-all party, spreading itself too thinly in order to attract 60-70% of the vote.
It also included a couple of very unusual suggestions, some of which would prove to be very controversial.
In the context of Northern powersharing and the reform of the House of Lords he had this to say:
"Would we be prepared to allow our Parliament to sit in Belfast while Dublin remained the capital? Alternatively, could the Senate meet in Belfast and the House of Representatives (the English name for Dáil Éireann) meet in Dublin?"
Or a little later:
"We must have more democracy and more democratic debate. What passes for debate in modern Ireland is little short of a sham. Far too many political parties vie for the middle ground, and where there are ideologies they are more likely to be bigoted than open to persuasion by the arguments of others."
Strong stuff. But what else would you expect from one of the Dáil's strongest personalities. He will be a loss to Brussels. A colleague once told me that if he was a dog he would always be chasing cars. It was meant as a compliment.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Things you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy.
1. Chinese torture
2. Five years in a Soviet gulag circa 1949
3. Sitting through an entire Oireachtas committee meeting.
Every Friday, the schedule of committee meetings for the following week is published. The committees roughly group themselves along the lines of Government Departments - justice, communications, arts, finance, foreign affairs, etc.
As you flick through the diary, you think, well, that one looks vaguely interesting. And then you start thinking that it might be worth covering. And in a moment of headrush madness you go ahead and volunteer to go down to the committee rooms for a morning or an afternoon.
On the face of it, many of the issues are important - and some have the potential to be absorbing. Sure, they discuss legislation. But so much more. The usual format is this. A person or group - civil servants, experts, lobbyists, industry representatives etc - come in and make a presentation. That is always fine.
The problem only starts when the TDs start asking questions. Their problem is that as politicians, they have been hard-wired to make statements, and very long ones at that. And ergo, we get a long series of pronouncements from every teedee and stentorian senatorian that meander on forever. And then they just add a question mark at the end.
It wouldn't be so bad if this only afflicted one or two but, tragically, it's a contagious condition for the political class.
It is always a mistake to cover them. When you are stuck in there you have an Epiphany moment, when you realise the monumental blunder you have made. It usually comes just after you realise that at least half a dozen TDs and Senators have still to ask questions. It usually comes just before you lose the will to live.
1. Chinese torture
2. Five years in a Soviet gulag circa 1949
3. Sitting through an entire Oireachtas committee meeting.
Every Friday, the schedule of committee meetings for the following week is published. The committees roughly group themselves along the lines of Government Departments - justice, communications, arts, finance, foreign affairs, etc.
As you flick through the diary, you think, well, that one looks vaguely interesting. And then you start thinking that it might be worth covering. And in a moment of headrush madness you go ahead and volunteer to go down to the committee rooms for a morning or an afternoon.
On the face of it, many of the issues are important - and some have the potential to be absorbing. Sure, they discuss legislation. But so much more. The usual format is this. A person or group - civil servants, experts, lobbyists, industry representatives etc - come in and make a presentation. That is always fine.
The problem only starts when the TDs start asking questions. Their problem is that as politicians, they have been hard-wired to make statements, and very long ones at that. And ergo, we get a long series of pronouncements from every teedee and stentorian senatorian that meander on forever. And then they just add a question mark at the end.
It wouldn't be so bad if this only afflicted one or two but, tragically, it's a contagious condition for the political class.
It is always a mistake to cover them. When you are stuck in there you have an Epiphany moment, when you realise the monumental blunder you have made. It usually comes just after you realise that at least half a dozen TDs and Senators have still to ask questions. It usually comes just before you lose the will to live.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
This was taken in the Gorges du Verdon in France in October. I was over rock climbing with a crowd from Kerry and taking what was the last long break for the election. (To be honest, I was looking for an excuse to post a pic!)
Political journalism in Ireland is very desk-bound... Leinster House contains the North Pole and the South Pole of what we write about (though it will change in the next few months). There's a famous polish climber who came up with a delicious quote about his sense of religion. It's better to be in the mountains thinking of God, than to be in church thinking of the mountains. Ditto for politics.
Of course, our TDs and Senators are on the usual six week Christmas break. They are coming back a week early. Big deal! They will be back for six weeks before they are off for St Patrick's Week. Then it's a week (or maybe two) back before Easter. And at that stage, the election will be called.
Every term, the Government chief whip published a list of priority legislation. And every term, they are lucky to get through half of what's promised.
Every time a new Government is elected, there's always brave talk about Dail and Seanad reform. Papers are published. Committees are formed. Grandiose promises are made. And invariably it all comes to nothing. The thing that captures the public imagination is the unconsciably long holidays they take. But the Seanad really needs to be reformed. The Second House is just about democratic, and deeply by proxy at that. The only proper election that takes place is for the university seats. And they are deeply unrepresentative - three for the NUI and three for TCD. And with eleven nominees by the Taoiseach, the Government will always have an inbuilt majority. Yes, the Seanad does have a legislative role, but in reality it is powerless to stall or amend legislation in the manner of the House of Lords in Britain.
It is a talking shop though, to be fair, the quality of debate is often vastly superior to the dirges we get in the Dail.
Bertie Ahern's new year resolution told us a lot of what a great welcome he makes for himself. His resolution: I'll work even harder, if that's possible.
Perhaps he could have added something like: I'll try to be even more modest, if that's possible.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Wednesday December 13 20.19
The eve of the Dail going into hibernation for Chrismas. The Dail is still sitting. The debate is like one of the minor races at evening's end, a bumper or novice race. Or the undercard at a boxing night. They are debating a Labour party motion on Dublin transport - more buses, less traffic jams, gridlock etc. Not that the main attractions today set the pulse running.
Crime (particulary the terrible double hit job in Dublin yesterday) has dominated this week's agenda in the Dail.
For those not attuned to the niceties and protocol of this august institution, Leaders Questions s is the twice-weekly slot where party leaders have a chance to ask the Taoiseach a question on any subject, without giving him notice. They happen on Tuesdays afternoon and Wednesday mornings. They tend to produce (but not always) the most newsworthy exchanges and (occasionally) some fire-in-the-belly rows. These are the debates that are most likely to be covered on radio and TV and by the newspapers the following morning. And this week, every question has been about gang wars.
(It's now 8.31 and the division bells are ringing, summoning TDs to the chamber to vote on the Labour Party motion. The Government whips ensure there are always sufficient TDs around to ensure a comfortable majority. No vote has been lost since 2002. In Britain though, Government chief whip Hillary Armstrong got the boot earlier this year, as an indirect result of getting the maths wrong and losing a vital Commons vote (on Iraq as far as I recall).
The point I'm slowly getting around to is topic count. While I have not had a chance to tot up the total, I'd guess that crime and health have dominated the discourse during Leaders question almost wholly.
Crime is the handiest weapon of choice in political showdowns. Comparing crime levels in Ireland with that of other countries is very difficult. But as far as I can ascertain, Ireland remains a compartively safe country, albeit with the levels of drug, gang crime, and homicides that one might expect in a developed and largely urbanised society.
But the problem is that is always presented as a crisis, both by politicians and by the media. The best part of Michael Moore's 'Bowling for Columbine' was his section on communal fear, and the cultivation of fear by the American media. And what that gives rise to in an Irish context is politicians outvying each other in the 'tough on crime' stakes. How many clampdowns, crackdowns, draconian measures etc. can be tolerated before it becomes ridiculous? An infinity unfortunately.
Even Bertie Ahern gets in on the act. Miriam Lord has acutely described Ahern in his Bertie the Bystander mode - the man in the anorak who shakes his head in annoyance at the terrible state of chassis.
Being a man of the people, he obviously shares their sense of powerlessness when terrible things happen.
20.58. It's a late sitting tonight. They have moved on to the adjournment debate. Time for this particular debate to be adjourned.
PS. Ciaran Cuffe's blog has a brilliant pic of a Garda traffic corp 4x4 parked on a bicycle lane, while one of the guards pops into a delicatessen. In the debate tonight, the rights of cyclists hardly features. Dublin's cycle lanes doubljob as parking spaces for cars and vans (yes, the hazard lights excuse everything).
Besides the Greens, the only TD I know who regularly uses a bicycle is Dr Dermot Fitzpatrick, the unassuming Fianna Fail representative for Dublin Central.
One of the reasons that cycling is so low on the priority list is that Ministers don't use them. The only time that Martin Cullen has used one recently was for a publicity shot. At least Bertie had the good grace to decline a photo op recently, leaving the honour of wobbling for Ireland to the irrepressible Environment Minister Dick Roche.
I have been cycling in Dublin for 14 years, even though it is beginning to scare the bejasus out of me as I get older. I got 'doored' on the South Quays earlier this year and ended up splayed in the middle of what is a highway with a truck bearing down on me. The lack of roadspace (and respect) for cyclists in Dublin is an abomination.
The eve of the Dail going into hibernation for Chrismas. The Dail is still sitting. The debate is like one of the minor races at evening's end, a bumper or novice race. Or the undercard at a boxing night. They are debating a Labour party motion on Dublin transport - more buses, less traffic jams, gridlock etc. Not that the main attractions today set the pulse running.
Crime (particulary the terrible double hit job in Dublin yesterday) has dominated this week's agenda in the Dail.
For those not attuned to the niceties and protocol of this august institution, Leaders Questions s is the twice-weekly slot where party leaders have a chance to ask the Taoiseach a question on any subject, without giving him notice. They happen on Tuesdays afternoon and Wednesday mornings. They tend to produce (but not always) the most newsworthy exchanges and (occasionally) some fire-in-the-belly rows. These are the debates that are most likely to be covered on radio and TV and by the newspapers the following morning. And this week, every question has been about gang wars.
(It's now 8.31 and the division bells are ringing, summoning TDs to the chamber to vote on the Labour Party motion. The Government whips ensure there are always sufficient TDs around to ensure a comfortable majority. No vote has been lost since 2002. In Britain though, Government chief whip Hillary Armstrong got the boot earlier this year, as an indirect result of getting the maths wrong and losing a vital Commons vote (on Iraq as far as I recall).
The point I'm slowly getting around to is topic count. While I have not had a chance to tot up the total, I'd guess that crime and health have dominated the discourse during Leaders question almost wholly.
Crime is the handiest weapon of choice in political showdowns. Comparing crime levels in Ireland with that of other countries is very difficult. But as far as I can ascertain, Ireland remains a compartively safe country, albeit with the levels of drug, gang crime, and homicides that one might expect in a developed and largely urbanised society.
But the problem is that is always presented as a crisis, both by politicians and by the media. The best part of Michael Moore's 'Bowling for Columbine' was his section on communal fear, and the cultivation of fear by the American media. And what that gives rise to in an Irish context is politicians outvying each other in the 'tough on crime' stakes. How many clampdowns, crackdowns, draconian measures etc. can be tolerated before it becomes ridiculous? An infinity unfortunately.
Even Bertie Ahern gets in on the act. Miriam Lord has acutely described Ahern in his Bertie the Bystander mode - the man in the anorak who shakes his head in annoyance at the terrible state of chassis.
Being a man of the people, he obviously shares their sense of powerlessness when terrible things happen.
20.58. It's a late sitting tonight. They have moved on to the adjournment debate. Time for this particular debate to be adjourned.
PS. Ciaran Cuffe's blog has a brilliant pic of a Garda traffic corp 4x4 parked on a bicycle lane, while one of the guards pops into a delicatessen. In the debate tonight, the rights of cyclists hardly features. Dublin's cycle lanes doubljob as parking spaces for cars and vans (yes, the hazard lights excuse everything).
Besides the Greens, the only TD I know who regularly uses a bicycle is Dr Dermot Fitzpatrick, the unassuming Fianna Fail representative for Dublin Central.
One of the reasons that cycling is so low on the priority list is that Ministers don't use them. The only time that Martin Cullen has used one recently was for a publicity shot. At least Bertie had the good grace to decline a photo op recently, leaving the honour of wobbling for Ireland to the irrepressible Environment Minister Dick Roche.
I have been cycling in Dublin for 14 years, even though it is beginning to scare the bejasus out of me as I get older. I got 'doored' on the South Quays earlier this year and ended up splayed in the middle of what is a highway with a truck bearing down on me. The lack of roadspace (and respect) for cyclists in Dublin is an abomination.
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