The last Dáil became very dull, but jaded staffers are hoping for a little excitement now
UNDER A week to go to the inaugural sitting of the 31st Dáil and Leinster House is a hive of activity.
The first-timers are crawling the corridors – like in the song, 76 unknowns will lead the big parade on Wednesday. Although of that unprecedented number of newbies, many are already household names, only unknown in terms of Dáil performances.
This influx of new blood has breathed fresh life into the fabric of the place. Leinster House had become a very dull and uninspiring spot in the last couple of years. Same old names, depressingly familiar old guff.
Now, jaded Oireachtas staffers and political observers are looking forward to what the coming months might bring. There is a real buzz of excitement.
The unfolding mating ritual between Fine Gael and Labour has added to the entertainment, with added spice from a stubborn rearguard action by career Fianna Fáil Senators who are refusing Micheál Martin’s request to give up their aul’ jobs.
The arrival of two exotic creatures in the form of Luke “Ming” Flanagan and the fluorescent Mick Wallace has caused quite a stir. Their comings and goings have been watched with a type of wide-eyed fascination that says a lot more about the people observing them – they need to get out more – than it does about the new deputies.
Highlight of the week, of course, was provided by Fine Gael’s Mary Mitchell “Magoo” O’Connor, who drove her sports car across the hallowed plinth on Wednesday, mistaking it for the way out. Deputy Mitchell Magoo, although mortified by her error, ensured that her entrance to national politics will not be forgotten.
Every new TD is anxious to make their mark and Mary has already left an indelible one. Her Hyundai coupé gouged grooves in the granite steps at the end of the plinth, the vehicle’s nosedive off them neatly depositing two skid marks of red paint on the tarmac.
The embarrassment will do the Dún Laoghaire school principal no harm at all. In fact, the headline-grabbing episode has stirred quiet jealously among some in the ranks of new TDs.
The Oireachtas authorities laid on a modest welcome buffet for the disorientated arrivals earlier in the week. We know this because the leftovers made their way across to the canteen for the delectation of lunchtime browsers.
Ah yes, it’s vol-au-vent and canapé city here in Leinster House. Not. Still, it was a lovely gesture.
Chips are on the lunchtime menu at the moment. They aren’t served in the middle of the day when the Dáil is in session. It’s a decorum thing.
Meanwhile, the talks to form a new government continued apace. The spinners did their best to communicate a scene of tough horse trading, major sticking points and big problems to iron out. But the principals seemed far too laid back to indicate any major discord.
Three from each party, with attendant advisers, sitting opposite each other at the big table in the Sycamore room of Government Buildings. They nipped out now and then for a breath of fresh air. They weren’t giving anything away.
These negotiations have been marked by an unusual discipline when it comes to leaks. A feature of the final years of the Fianna Fáil administration was an inability to keep information under wraps. It was like nobody really cared.
However, while the detail of the issues under discussion was not being disclosed, the party heavyweights charged with doing the deal were at pains to indicate that the negotiations were being conducted in a cordial fashion, with an absence of table banging and grandstanding.
Yesterday, Joan Burton brought apples, bananas and scones to the table.
The room is big and bright, but we hear the atmosphere became a little stuffy. Attempts to open the windows were unsuccessful.
Some of the participants have been in this situation before. Brendan Howlin is on his fourth set of coalition talks.
He recalled one particularly fraught episode when Labour opened communications with both Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil.
At one point in their talks with Fine Gael, a senior party man, who would have hopes of a ministerial portfolio this time out, thumped the table in exasperation and asked why a particular point had to be revisited again. Hadn’t they already thrashed it out in meticulous detail? “Yes, we did – But with Fianna Fáil” he was reminded by a colleague.
Yesterday, nobody realistically expected a result by nightfall. Not least because Enda Kenny was in Helsinki and Eamon Gilmore in Athens. And the Labour side isn’t in a huge hurry to get a document out that could be parsed and analysed at leisure before the party meets to discuss it.
There is a body of thought in Labour that they would be better off going it alone and cementing their position as the main opposition party, thus manoeuvring themselves into pole position for the next election.
Some on the coalition side of the argument were wondering if Eamon and Enda couldn’t be delayed by some last-minute shopping engagements in Finland and Greece.
For all the attempts to inject an element of suspense into the process, it was rumoured by yesterday afternoon that the two sides were already at the drafting stage.
Meanwhile, the arrival in Leinster House of a fine body of fighting men, in full dress uniform, had people wondering whether the authorities are beefing up security in advance of Wednesday’s first day bunfight.
As it turned out, they were from the US army’s legendary 69th battalion – the Fighting Irish.
The officers are on a trip to Ireland and paid a courtesy call to Leinster House, where their flag proudly hangs on a wall.
It was presented to the Oireachtas by President John F Kennedy when he visited Ireland in 1962.
Speaking of dress uniform, everyone is agog at what might happen when the aforementioned flamboyants of Ming and Mick pitch up for active duty next week. They won’t be fully suited and booted in the conventional sense.
Also mentioned in the style dispatches have been the representatives of People Before Profit – they plan a march on the Dáil to announce their arrival. One of their new deputies is Joan Collins. Her nose ring has given palpitations to some of more conservative officials. “Piercings Before Profit” is how one gleeful fashion anarchist described her.
Word is that the ushers – that discreetly efficient squad of Oireachtas enforcers – have been instructed not to admonish any deputies for their mode of dress on Wednesday.
All rulings on the sartorial stylings of TDs will be left to the ceann comhairle, whomever he or she might be. One suspects the new chair will have enough to be going on with to be too bothered with overly casual attire.
It’ll all become clear next week. Who can wear what. Who will have what job. If we have a coalition. If somebody will ascend to cabinet as a super junior with a bib and a high chair.
In the interim, the Seanad sits on Tuesday to deal with Feargal Quinn’s subcontractors Bill.
Just to ease us into things.
