Change of climate tests Ryan's appeal

ON THE CANVASS: Despite anger with the Government, Eamon Ryan gets a mostly cordial reception on the doorsteps of Dublin South…

ON THE CANVASS:Despite anger with the Government, Eamon Ryan gets a mostly cordial reception on the doorsteps of Dublin South's neat homes

EAMON RYAN is standing on the doorstep of a house in suburban Dublin getting a demonstration of climate change in action.

Ryan has rung the bell of a neat semi-D on Brewery Road. It has a porch with glass sliding doors. A man in his late 60s opens the inside door. When he realises it is Ryan, his complexion changes from neutral to purple, and he starts mouthing off and gesticulating angrily at Ryan.

The sliding door never opens and we never hear what he has said. The inside door is slammed shut. Ryan scrunches his eyes closed while a smile forms on his lips. It’s a trademark expression, one of concentration but also betraying a little nervousness.

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It is a momentary setback. There is always the neat semi-D next door, and the dozens of neat semi-Ds further down the street, and the thousands of neat semi-Ds throughout this constituency, one of the most prosperous in the country. In Dublin South the local paper is The Irish Times and the local radio station is RTÉ, according to Ryan. Of course, that is too broad a brush stroke. But it is salutary that during an afternoon’s canvass with Ryan, no local issue whatsoever crops up.

More than once Ryan will accept the views of voters that the Greens are not exactly the flavour of the month. “It’s a real battle. Things have changed, though, since the start of the campaign. People were angry but that’s not so evident any more.” Besides one or two incidents of antipathy, people are surprisingly engaged.

Unlike other parties who have large teams, Ryan canvasses alone a lot, with his helpers working adjacent streets. Along the streets, you can give a good guess at the status of the householders: prosperous self-employed (two fancy cars in the driveway); older, settled families (neatly manicured lawns); and younger couples (hip Farrow and Ball colours on the doors and windows, gravelled driveways, sculpted bushes).

“People are very articulate. They have thought through what they want to say. A lot of people are angry. They want to let you know about their circumstances. You listen. It’s a very healthy exercise.”

Like all candidates, he has a prepared schtick which goes something like this: “I am in the battle for the last seat. Fine Gael will win two, Labour will win one and so will Shane Ross. It will be between me and three others for the last seat.”

The next instalment, if he gets that far, is: “We are coming out of the most unpopular government for years. But we have learned a lot in the past three years, especially with our work on the green economy. Alternative energy, such as wind and tide, is the future and will provide jobs.”

With his easy-going nature, aided by height, dark hair and good looks, there is an unmistakable presentability to him. Women warm to him. At least half a dozen people he meets pledge him their vote.

Whether that personal cachet is enough to save his seat – which wasn’t a gimme by any means last time around – is another question.

One of the Green backroom team admits the party will be lucky to salvage one or two seats. The party has a shoestring budget. It has run a no-frills campaign. And that includes its policies. It has promised nothing. It has highlighted what the party achieved in government on the environment and education and civil partnership, and that it acted responsibly and took the hard decisions, though none of the mistakes were of its own doing. It has been an uphill struggle, though John Gormley’s strong performance in the five-way debate gave some impetus.

Has it done it any good? The answer is supplied by an elderly woman Ryan bumps into on the street. “You are guilty by association,” she says.

He responds that people decided on Fianna Fáil in 2007 and the Greens believed the urgency of climate change demanded they be in government.

But that argument cuts no mustard with another woman.

He responds: “When the economic crisis came, we had to be responsible. In the 1980s, governments didn’t do that and there were elections every six months. I’m also convinced the greener economy will provide a way forward.”

The woman cuts him short. “Not a chance,” she says.

Sadly, it might also describe the party’s odds on Friday.

Harry McGee

Harry McGee

Harry McGee is a Political Correspondent with The Irish Times