DOES anybody else share my amazement at the sheer numbers of Irish people who think they have what it takes to be President? I mean, not a day goes by now that we don’t hear about yet another of our fellow citizens who is seriously considering a run. And it’s a bit of a paradox – to put it mildly – at this of all times.
As a corporate entity, Ireland has been humiliated by recent events. You might think, therefore, that personal confidence would also be running low. But au contraire. If the ever-growing list of people who think themselves worthy of our highest honour is an indication, we must now be rivalling the US for reserves of self-esteem.
Contrast our current wealth in this regard with the poverty out of which our first President was chosen. In 1937, The Irish Timessuggested there could be "no more fitting choice" than Douglas Hyde: a nice way of saying nobody else was the required standard. Sure enough, a year later, the political parties agreed a shortlist of one qualified candidate and an election was unnecessary.
The embarrassment of riches now offering themselves is even more paradoxical when you consider that the President purports to be the embodiment of the people. Last time I checked, the need for a certain self-effacement was still essential to success in Irish life. It didn’t have to be genuine. False modesty was highly prized too. The main thing was that you were never seen to blow your own trumpet.
Now, the national brass section grows daily, at least in the competition for the Park. So maybe the old rules have changed. Given the age profile of most candidates, perhaps what we’re seeing here is the global triumph of the Dr Spock school of parenting, in which from the late 1940s onwards, the dangers of praising children were dismissed, and everyone was brought up to think himself special.
On the other hand, a common thread in many of the possible candidacies is a suggestion of external compunction on the decision to run. Mairead McGuinness, for example, prefaced her declaration of intent by saying she had been “regularly approached” about doing so. Niall O’Dowd said a “group of highly influential figures” had urged him to put his name forward.
Even Jackie Healy Rae – surprising many listeners by taking an April Fool’s Day question from Radio Kerry as his campaign launch pad – said “eight or nine” people had already suggested the same thing, in all seriousness.
The old ways may not be completely dead yet in that, while mentioning how many people have asked/urged/ pleaded pathetically with you to declare, you must still, in doing so, quickly add a comment to the effect that the experience has not given you a big head. That your natural modesty, far from being diminished, has only increased as a result.
Hence McGuinness admitting she was “honoured and humbled that people would even ask” and O’Dowd confessing that he was “totally taken aback” by the groundswell of support. Healy Rae, interestingly, made no such protest of humility, despite having completed his formative years long before anyone in Ireland had heard of Dr Spock. So much for that theory.
In one sense, at least O’Dowd’s emergence as an “emigrant candidate” might be a reflection of the current crisis. If he were elected, it would represent the full-circle turn in Ireland’s economic fortunes since the 1990 election, but with a slight twist. Then, Mary Robinson put a candle in the Áras window for the Diaspora. Now, the Diaspora would be lighting one for the people at home.
But all the potential candidates have their visions for how Ireland can thrive again. And I suppose we should wish them luck. Much as one might marvel at their self-confidence or effrontery, one would also hate to see all that positivity crushed by electoral rejection.
Maybe this is not a risk for such people. Still, you'd prefer to think that if he gets that far, voters will break it gently to the likes of Dragons' Den man Seán Gallagher, viz: "You've a great product, Seán. And we all wish you well with it in the future. But we just think that the Irish market is not yet ready for a President with a Cavan accent. And for that reason, we're out."
Which said, it’s a bit rich to be worrying about the effect of defeat on the many who have mooted their candidacies. It’s the effect on the rest of us – the feeling of inadequacy, the apparent lack of ambition, etc – that’s cause for concern. With so many people deeming themselves worthy of the highest office, what does it say about those of us who don’t? I just want to state for the record that I would, of course, consider running for President if that was what the people wanted. But to be brutally honest, nobody has yet asked me, even as an April Fool’s joke. The failure of my so-called friends to at least mention the possibility has been especially galling. And if my support levels and Mairead McGuinness’s have one thing in common, it’s that they’ve both left us genuinely humbled.