The idea of a rotating taoiseach entered the Irish political lexicon in 1989 when Charles Haughey’s Fianna Fáil did not have the numbers to govern alone. Haughey offered the opposition parties “serious and realistic negotiations” and a “substantive role, short of participation in government”, but Fine Gael, led by Alan Dukes, mooted a possible coalition with Fianna Fáil “with the position of taoiseach rotating every year”. The suggestion was dismissed by Fianna Fáil; Brian Lenihan called it a “tongue-in-cheek offer” that “insulted the intelligence of the Irish people and Fianna Fáil”.
This month 30 years ago, there was talk of the possibility of the leader of the Labour Party, Dick Spring, becoming taoiseach. Following his party’s breakthrough success in the general election the previous month, winning 33 seats, Spring felt in a strong enough position to at least use the idea as a tactic in exploring the possibility of government with Fine Gael, which had won 45 seats, and Democratic Left.
It was a nonrunner; while Fine Gael discussed it internally, it was regarded by the party as a “recipe for permanent instability”. Fianna Fáil leader Albert Reynolds, waiting in the wings with 68 seats, following what was regarded as a disastrous election, was dismissive of the potential for what he called a “lethal-cocktail coalition” of other parties; he also dismissed the idea of a rotating taoiseach. Ultimately, the Labour Party opted for coalition with Fianna Fáil; instead of a rotating taoiseach, Spring was to occupy an expanded office of tánaiste.
The wags and wits observing Irish politics had fun with the novel notion of rotation, with numerous references to spin doctors, U-turns and taoisigh going around the bend; journalist Edward O’Loughlin joked in 1992 that “a rotating Taoiseach would be the only man to turn this state around”. But that it was being discussed at all was also an indication of the significance of political scientist Peter Mair’s declaration that “in 1987, the Irish party system was thrown into disarray”. While the electoral success of the PDs that year was relatively modest, it inaugurated the era of novel coalitions and there was to be no going back.
Tomorrow’s handover of the office of taoiseach to Leo Varadkar is also an indication of the ideological compatibility and centrism that has become the hallmark of Irish government formation. Pragmatism and desire for power, not necessarily an ignoble desire, have ensured chief denunciators have found ways to share power with their erstwhile targets and supposed political enemies.
The coming months will also test some of the assertions that were made in the past in order to pour cold water on the overall notion of rotating the taoiseach’s office
What will be most interesting to observe in the future is not just whether the transition from Martin to Varadkar is smooth, but if it will establish a new template that will become the norm. After all, Sinn Féin, for all its talk of change in recent years, made it clear in 2017 that it was open to coalition with Fianna Fáil or Fine Gael; it is a lot more popular now, but with its current level of support would still need to govern in coalition and is carefully building bridges, most recently with party president Mary Lou MacDonald embarking on what she called a “charm offensive” by addressing farmers at the AGM of the Irish Creamery Milk Suppliers Association.
Could there even be multiple rotations? In March 2020, senior Green Party members advanced the idea of party leader Eamon Ryan getting a turn as taoiseach for one year: “Mathematically it makes sense,” they insisted: “2-2-1″.
But politically it was not taken seriously. The coming months will also test some of the assertions that were made in the past in order to pour cold water on the overall notion of rotating the taoiseach’s office. Twenty years ago, this newspaper editorialised that “the concept of rotating the leadership of the government must be fraught with peril… any government will be challenged by the agenda which must be faced. But one formed on the basis that it will switch leaders halfway through its term will be hobbled from the start. Political expediency may cause rotating leadership to become a reality. But it would be bad governance for the State.”
‘A kind of poetry’
Whether there is still mileage in that warning remains to be seen; if it works, it could be that the Irish State, already exceptional in the unbroken endurance of its 100 years of democracy, provides an illustration of the compatibility of rotating leaders and stability.
Tomorrow’s changeover will also further cement the end of Civil War politics. Varadkar has suggested there is “a kind of poetry” in him becoming taoiseach exactly one hundred years after this state came into existence, as a modern symbol of the final burying of historic enmities. But that will raise other questions; what is the ideological rationale for the continued existence of the two parties? Can they convincingly argue that separate identities serve a meaningful purpose in the name of safeguarding what they see as the political centre?