The repercussions from a simple golf event in Clifden, Connemara, are becoming bewildering to the point of high political farce.
The annual Oireachtas golf outing normally draws a strong turnout from the great and the good of the political establishment. It is a pretty convivial affair with Dáil deputies, senators and ex-members mixing freely with golfers, illustrious and unknown, around the Connemara course. Given how busy public life is the former Oireachtas members tend to do better at the golf.
Whatever was running through the minds of this year’s event organisers they were certainly not just out of practice but a little out of touch. The idea of hosting such a large event amid a blizzard of Covid-19 regulations and public health recommendations defies rational analysis.
Unfortunately it will lead the public yet again to the cynical conclusion that the inhabitants of Leinster House are delusional and out of touch. As ever, this may or may not be the actual case.
Dara Calleary has paid a high price. The situation is hugely ironic given that it was the loud clamour of his supporters in the West that led to his eventual Cabinet inclusion after the equally embarrassing firing of Barry Cowen as result of a drink-driving controversy only a few weeks ago. It still beggars belief, though, how a Cabinet minister can introduce new public health measures one day and then end up sitting down to dinner with a large group of 80 or more people the next day and not see any danger in attending the event.
Clifden is a gossipy town in high summer and word of his and the presence of others was bound to get out or be discovered. Having holidayed there myself one hears of the presence of notables there within minutes of arrival. The presence of a Supreme Court judge and former attorney general, European Commissioner, and a host of TDs and Senators, gives the whole event an aspect of farce.
Fianna Fáil people have already concluded that the Micheál Martin-led coalition is a shambles and the departure of Calleary from its ministerial ranks will only heighten a pre-existing tension about the new coalition within the party. The problem is that on this occasion, as with the Cowen episode, they cannot blame Fine Gael nor the Greens for their misfortunes.
‘Old Fianna Fáil’
The two incidents only add to the impression, well promoted by opponents, that the old Fianna Fáil has not gone away. In this area of political indelicacy the Micheál Martin government appears cursed from the outset. Martin has done well to become Taoiseach but seems cursed by bad luck. Napoleon famously insisted on asking of his generals if they were lucky – on the basis that talent alone was not enough to succeed in high office. Given that Martin is term limited to two years as Taoiseach, his misfortunes may in fact multiply.
The only other choice for Martin must be to acknowledge the short duration of his tenure as Taoiseach and avoid taking any risk at all, at all. This of course would play into the hands of his internal critics who declare him indecisive in any event. One way or the other, he is on borrowed time. The interview given to the Sunday Times by backbencher Jim O’Callaghan is ample evidence that there are people who would wish to replace him
Party members, angry about coalition with Fine Gael, have also been somewhat further annoyed by the open dissent about Government policy coming from Leo Varadkar directly as Tánaiste and, additionally, from the “senior Fine Gael” persons so often quoted in the media following or before Cabinet meetings. The cracks and fissures in this three-way coalition are something of an open wound at this stage and we are still only a matter of weeks into the administration.
August, it is often said, can be a wicked month. It has been for the current Government. The Calleary incident underlines a number of things for the public. The first is that the Government itself appears to be out of touch with current public opinion. People are rightly on edge over the virus and personal frustration is never far from the surface. There is also a significant degree of confusion among the public between the concept of regulations and recommendations. The guidance from public sources does not appear to be all that clear.
Source of frustration
The perception for instance among the over-70s that they are being picked out for isolation while younger people party on, gulping down the free whiskey, is a significant source of frustration. The veteran former broadcaster Charlie Bird captured this well during the week in a radio interview.
The complicated composition of the three-party coalition and the ongoing presence of the Covid-19 virus means political instability will be a certainty when the Dáil resumes in the autumn. When they do eventually get back to Leinster House, golf will be the last thing on their minds.
The time limit imposed by the rotating taoiseach arrangement, by definition, introduces a degree of uncertainty into government. That uncertainty will always be there but the sheer unknowns around the Covid crisis will make it a government that will cling on rather than face an election. A lot of Ministers have gone in its early stages and a lot more will be gone before it finishes its term in 4½ years’ time.
There is nothing more that pleases full-time politicians than being out and about. They like being seen and all the more so being recognised. This kind of politics is not possible due to the virus. The public are judging politicians now by the yardstick of performance and more especially, due to the virus, by the old-fashioned measure of how they match up to the guidance they give. The Calleary incident is evidence, if evidence is needed, of a new ruthlessness in public decision making. An apology is no longer sufficient.
Conor Lenihan is a former Fianna Fáil minister and currently works in the investment sector.