Tánaiste talks her way out of trouble as protesters fail to revolt

DÁIL SKETCH:The whiff of rebellion was absent both on the streets and in Leinster House itself, writes MIRIAM LORD

THERE WASN’T much hope from the Government.

There wasn’t a lot of fight in the Opposition.

And outside, there was little sign of the revolution.

Apart, that is, from the usual suspects, who were very pleasantly surprised at the lavish welcome the Garda laid out for them at Leinster House.

Lines of uniformed officers, wall-to-wall brass and braid, lean looking emergency response types in liveried windcheaters, black marias, motorcycles, attack dogs on the front lawn, four police horses and a helicopter.

After the brief but violent attempt by a small group of protesters to break through the gates of Leinster House last week, the gardaí arrived in Kildare Street yesterday with a point to prove.

They knew the Right to Work protesters were mustering for another march on parliament. But there would be no one rushing the gates again.

This time, because they know they were coming, the only thing gardaí didn’t do was bake a cake.

The hardline protesters – the serial ones, not those who turned out because they are angry at the Government and its handling of the economy – were delighted.

Such attention!

“Ah Commissioner, with this menacing show of strength you really are spoiling us!”

Apart from Senator David Norris, drawn to microphones like a moth to a flame, who arrived in Molesworth Street when the protest meeting was in full swing, the politicians decided to remain within the safe and dry confines of Leinster House.

Although if you peered hard enough down the plinth, you could see the worried little faces looking out from the front windows.

Our elected representatives were uneasy. Best not cause further upset by appearing in public.

Although there were hopes there might be a sighting of Senator Terry Leyden, who shot his mouth off in the Seanad after last week’s march and blamed Fintan O’Toole for inciting the revolting masses.

He did this under privilege and was very unwilling to retract this criminal allegation until the columnist came on Liveline and wiped the floor with him.

After a self-serving sort of apology was dragged out of him, Terry said he would be happy to meet some of the protesters. (The Blessed Fintan couldn’t as he was washing his hair or something.) We scanned the barricades in the evening rain, couldn’t see the Senator from Roscommon beating his breast and moving among the unemployed.

“Oh no, Terry is definitely going to go out and castigate himself!” insisted one of his colleagues peeping out from one of the windows. If he did, we can only hope the St John’s Ambulance people were around.

But back to the Seanad, where Leyden “apologised” to Fintan.

He hadn’t “intentionally” tried to spark a riot, dripped the Senator and generously conceded that Fintan is “a democrat”.

Who needs free speech when you can have a seat in the Seanad? Over in the Lower House, Tánaiste Mary Coughlan was in charge because the Taoiseach was under a cloud.

No change there, sez you. Except in Biffo’s case, he had flown under the volcanic ash cloud to get to a conference in Madrid.

There was always only going to be one topic up for discussion – the massive loss of jobs in the Pfizer pharmaceutical company.

Enda Kenny and Eamon Gilmore did their best to summon up anger at the Government over the development – when was it known, had they made any attempts to keep the jobs?

The Tánaiste was clinical in her replies. The jobs were not lost because of economic considerations in Ireland, rather, they went as part of a global reorganisation of the company.

In their hearts, the two Opposition leaders probably knew that little could have been done to avert the disaster. But they had to show willing, nonetheless.

It will come as no comfort to the workers concerned, but there was little fight in the pair.

Perhaps the mood could best be summed up in the rather forlorn question from Gilmore: “Is there any hope for the people?”

Mary Coughlan has her detractors. But she handled yesterday’s questions competently, although her tendency to begin sentences with “it is important to say” begins to grate after a while.

Some were saying she didn’t show enough emotion. Others thought her blush red-lined suit was fabulous.

It’s a tough station, being a female Tánaiste.

There was less than three hours to go to anarchy when she took questions, but Mary didn’t seem too worried. Why would she?

There was a proverbial “ring of steel” around the building, and then the thin blue line, and then a thicker one and then the horses.

Those gardaí who weren’t stationed outside Leinster House were on duty outside Anglo Irish Bank.

This really annoyed the protesters who passed on their way to the Dáil.

They scuffled with gardaí – both sides looking up to some action, it has to be said – before setting off from St Stephen’s Green. “We are Ireland. We will Resist” read some of the placards.

It was a day of contrasts. Protests in the evening rain and on the plinth in the afternoon sun, a son of Dublin 4 (Minister Eamon Ryan) and Cork merchant prince (Simon Coveney) battling it out over the television rights to big rugby matches.