What does Enda Kenny stand for? In what policy direction will Pat Rabbitte lead the Labour Party? Will Bertie Ahern be able to escape from the "right wing" tag now that cuts are upon us and we are queueing to get on to hospital trolleys? asks Mark Brennock
These are the things which preoccupy political journalists as we prepare for the Dáil to resume at the end of the month. Most of us are interested in policy, so we want policy to matter. We criticise political leaders for policy inconsistency, for saying one thing and then implementing another.
But experience shows that we may be missing the point: what politicians stand for is important, but there is evidence that it is secondary to something else.
The Dutch novelist Harry Mulisch created a character - a failed politician - in his novel The Discovery of Heaven, who identified that "something else".
"No one attains power by what he says; his political programme is incidental and so is who he is: someone else may come along with the same programme and nothing will happen. Someone gains power solely because he has the physical constitution of someone who gains power. If he were to say something different - the opposite, for example - in another party or movement, he would still gain power. The powerful person is someone who gains power because he has a physical secret that makes other people say, 'Yes, that's our man' - or woman of course."
This is to describe the phenomenon in extreme terms, but the phenomenon is there and is of major importance in electoral politics.
Take Mulisch's home country of the Netherlands. Last year the rise in support for the populist anti-immigration party led by Pim Fortuyn caused consternation in the Netherlands and around Europe. However the Dutch election result to emerge next week will show that support for this party has largely evaporated.
The articulate, charming, colourful Fortuyn had what it takes to attract a substantial section of the electorate.
This time around a new Social Democrats' leader - young, good-looking charismatic Wouter Bos - is likely to lead his party back from the dead. This cannot be explained in terms of policy - unless we believe that the Dutch people have swung madly to the right and back to the centre-left in less than a year.
It is hard to describe what politicians such as Fortuyn have, but for the purposes of this article, let's call it "It". It does not necessarily involve good looks, or articulacy, or political consistency, although all of these things help. It is a personal magnetism that is physical, immediately recognisable in those who have it, but very difficult to deconstruct into its constituent parts.
Take Garret. Note how we always call him Garret. We don't immediately think about his impressive capacity for original thought on policy nor his political achievements, his integrity, although we know he has these things.
He had It. As a result, eccentricities which would be annoying in others are spoken of with fondness in relation to him. Wearing odd socks, talking too fast, firing out statistics all the time. Such things are not annoying but endearing in people who have It because we have decided they are one of ours.
IT'S THE same with Bertie (that first-name thing again). In the Dáil he talks into his tie, he sometimes uses the wrong words, doesn't give straight answers. He was up every tree in north Dublin and never saw a thing.
But because he has It these have become endearing characteristics rather than political flaws in the public mind. He walks down a street and people flock towards him. Other politicians end up chasing voters down the street.
It is physical.
The driving force, the charisma of the person who puts forward ideas becomes larger than the ideas themselves. Bertie could lead a centre-left government tomorrow with, say, the Labour Party and still have the same appeal and not be vulnerable to charges of a political U-turn. It's not just about likeability and warmth. Dick Spring was respected but not loved by many and so was Thatcher. Both had It.
Of course you must have some politics, but not necessarily in too much detail. Some certainty about a couple of big issues helps. Personal colour and a bit of passion are useful too. What has become known as emotional intelligence - the ability to read and engage with the feelings of others - is significant.
It doesn't just work with the ordinary voters. It works at the highest political level too. Bertie is not seen as the consummate deal-maker due solely to an ability to dream up compromise position papers. He has that personal interaction skill that makes people feel good about doing what he suggests.
So how can the Opposition compete with that when the Dáil comes back on January 29th? Enda Kenny is now moving beyond the first phase of leadership during which people made allowances for the fact that he was new. Voters will be deciding soon whether he has It. Once they decide, it takes a long time to change their minds.
Pat Rabbitte certainly has a significant portion of It. He swept through Labour's leadership contest as a relative newcomer to the party. This was partly due to his pre-election positioning vis-à-vis Fianna Fáil, but substantially because he had It.
During the May election campaign, a senior Opposition figure remarked that they wanted to focus the campaign on policy because they couldn't compete on the other thing. "Nobody is better at being Bertie than Bertie," he remarked.
The Opposition could commission some DNA research to try to discover the secret. Alternatively, they should stick to policy and hope It wears off.