Juvenile delinquents

Editorial from Thursday 16 September


I’m not talking about the Junior Certs. They’re paragons of good behaviour, compared to some of their ‘role models’. While everyone was busy sniggering at Brian Cowen, or invading the moral high ground this week, it was another image from this week’s Fianna Fáil Parliamentary Party shindig that caught our imagination here at Cork Independent HQ.

An image of An Tánaiste fixing her smart suit for an official parliamentary party photo, because she had just been sat on, for a laugh, by Cork TD Noel O’Flynn.

Whatever your views on Mary Coughlan as a person or as a politician, surely we have more respect for the office of Deputy Prime Minister?

Noel O’Flynn is Mary Coughlan’s junior by quite a bit in terms of professional ranking. Mary Coughlan is, if not the boss, the second in command.

Those of you who work for large companies, take a minute. Picture yourself at an official function. The announcement of a new acquisition, maybe, or a major contract signing. You’re not on a company night out, where the rules are a bit relaxed; there are members of the media, photographers, your immediate boss, and probably their boss too.

What do you do as the official photograph is being taken?

Do you run over to the company Vice-President and sit on his lap?

Like hell you do. Your termination notice would be in your hand before you even stood up.

Anybody working for a multinational or any kind of professional outfit will have broken into a cold sweat reading that.

But apparently it’s ok, because this is Ireland, this politics, not business, and, sure, isn’t Mary Coughlan always up for a laugh?

Imagine Bernard Allen, then a fairly junior Fine Gael TD, attempting to sit on revered Cork Tánaiste Peter Barry during a press conference. Imagine a jovial Charlie Haughey alighting on Tánaiste Seán Lemass’ knee, as the camera rolled and Gay Byrne shouted questions at them.

What’s most astounding about this is it hasn’t even been questioned. By anybody. The huffing and puffing about Brian Cowen’s state on Tuesday morning has distracted from this little episode, which raises more than one question about Irish politics.

The first one, about basic respect for public office, has already been dealt with. All of us make mistakes in our careers, but the office of Taoiseach, the responsibility it entails, is too important to be treated the same as any old nine to fiver where you can show up the worse for wear and lay your head on the desk for the day.

But the second is a different question entirely. With gender quotas back on the table; when talented young politicians like Olwyn Enright just cannot make politics work for them; and as Ireland has one of the lowest rates of female representation in the world, why is it ok for a middle aged male politician to behave towards his female superior like a teenage boy whose next trick will be to make rude noises with his armpit?

It is inconceivable that a male Tánaiste would be treated like this.

A photograph of one of Cork’s few young female politicians – City Councillor Laura McGonigle – appeared in this newspaper recently. The photo was taken at an official function she attended in her capacity as Deputy Lord Mayor, and she was wearing a ballgown. Women wear ballgowns at these things; we are expected to look decorative at all times.

A week later, she started receiving abusive text messages, with personal comments about certain aspects of her appearance, purporting to be complimentary.

If a male Deputy Lord Mayor appeared in this newspaper wearing a suit, his wife would probably be the only one to notice how he looked in the picture.

But this constituent apparently thought he had a right to express an opinion on whether he found her attractive or not. He was even surprised when she mentioned the Gardaí.

Is it any wonder Olwyn Enright decided politics might not be compatible with motherhood? Is it any wonder Brian Cowen thought the office of Taoiseach would not be compromised by a few scoops? Is it any wonder the country is the way it is, when we have no respect for the highest offices in the State, and those elected to them can’t even respect each other?

They’re at it again

They’re at it again. Pesky politicians.
Politicians across the very narrow spectrum of Irish politics are incredibly predictable. We’ll go through them, and you’ll see what I mean.
Fianna Fáil. They’re lying low. Brian Cowen was off in the States recently proclaiming our economic recovery, and fair dues to him. He’s more likely to get a friendly reception almost anywhere than in Ireland these days. In fairness to him, it’s important for the economy that we’re seen to engage with the international markets… It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that Moody’s downgraded our credit rating the day after his Wall Street visit.
The rest of them, despite great posturing over different issues such as, variously, dog breeding (hello, Christy O’Sullivan and Denis O’Donovan), stag hunting, and civil partnership, have disappeared since the Oireachtas went on holidays. Everyone needs a holiday, of course, and I’ve no doubt they will be busy in their constituencies once they’ve done their two weeks’ penance somewhere. Speaking of holiday homes, another, er, Cork Fianna Fáiler who’s been in the news lately is Ivor Callely. His reasons for being newsworthy? Living in Cork – apparently – and claiming outrageous and dubious expenses. So, more of the same from Fianna Fáil. Is it me or is there a stench of the 1980s off all of this?
And now to Fine Gael. Let’s see. A botched leadership challenge, an ideological/geographical/generational divide, a social event where the opposing groups lined up at either side like an old fashioned dance, allegedly, and now a young TD criticising the ‘cute hoor’ culture of Irish politics, not just within the Government party, which would be ok, but within her own. So far, so 1980s. The Fine Gael curse has struck again, despite the valiant efforts of, among others, our own Jerry Buttimer to convince the outside world that everything is fine.
Labour. Eamon Gilmore says, like Pat Rabbitte and Dick Spring said before him, that there is no chance of him joining Fianna Fáil in Government after the next election. Rumours that a Fianna Fáil rep in South West Cork is about to jump ship to the new ‘populist’ party, and talk about a ‘Gilmore Tide’. Now we’re up to 1992!
While the Greens were but an embryo at that time, it’s pretty clear that history is repeating itself in Irish politics, and their parliamentary party has something of the endangered species about it; think of the Workers’ Party, the Democratic Socialist Party, etc. Parties with genuine policy positions and ambitions of real change rarely get very far in this country.
More of the same and plus ca change; is it any wonder we’re bored?
There’s a lot of rhetoric about ‘change’ going around, and the MacGill summer school in Donegal was full of it. But we’re well known for rhetoric – blarney, waffle, and spin are all readily identified with the Irish – and rhetoric isn’t going to get us out of this trough.
One of the most depressing radio items I’ve ever heard was a panel discussion on Radio 1 on Saturday in which four young politicians discussed their reasons for getting into politics and joining the parties they’d joined. While they were all very pleasant and articulate, they were all careful not to alienate anyone, careful not to offend each other, and careful to kowtow to their party lines.
And so, the cycle continues.

Four Angry Men

I went to see Four Angry Men - Matt Cooper, Shane Ross, Pat Leahy and Fintan O'Toole - in the Cork Opera House last night.

About 1,000 people showed up on a cold, dark, wet evening to hear four men rant (very intelligibly and well, I must say) about the state of the nation, the banks, the governing party, and society.

It was absolutely fantastic.

I am a big admirer of all four men for their intelligence and for their work on various issues as journalists.

After last night I particularly admire Pat Leahy, who earned fewer rounds of applause because of his direct and honest approach to the problems facing the country.

And I was very taken with Fintan O'Toole's idea of "known unknowns" - the things that, in Ireland, we know but we do not know. Things that we are, on some level, aware of, but we refuse to admit to ourselves. Child abuse, domestic abuse, corruption, crime... it's all in there. The culture in this country of being aware of things but not admitting them is the biggest problem facing us and he put it very well.

Their exploration of the corruption and lack of justice in modern Irish society was very interesting, and the format really suited it.

As Shane Ross pointed out, 1000 people had paid to come and see them speak last night. The previous night he spoke in the Seanad, where people are paid to be. One person was there.

The apathy and disconnectedness of the Irish public was dissected well by Pat Leahy, who repeatedly stated what many of us know, but do not know; we did not do the crime but we enabled it. We elected the people who did, and continued electing them in a cycle of greed and stupidity and self-service.

And many people will no doubt continue to vote for the same people, because although they "hate Fianna Fáil", sure "Joe up the road was good to us" and "Paddy is great to fix a streetlight".

These are all things that I knew, but that I had stopped thinking about; falling victim to the 'known unknown' Irish culture that I thought I was above.

The evening was better than I expected because it was thought-provoking. It reminded me of how enraged I was when the bank bailout happened; I'd forgotten.