Micheál Martin is apparently clean of the dreaded disease of 'consensus' now, writes MIRIAM LORD
WHY COULDN’T the poor man have sent us a sign? A scribbled note dropped from the window of his State car. A coded message to Charlie Bird. A hint of off-message behaviour.
But nothing. No indication of how he must have been suffering while serving as a senior cabinet minister in three successive governments.
Micheál, forgive us. We never knew.
To think that this paragon of radical thought languished for 14 years under the oppressive leaderships of Bertie Ahern and Brian Cowen, forced to go out and defend the worst of Ahern’s tribunal tales and forced to denounce the critics of Cowen as Ireland fell apart.
In his defence, we now know that Martin was drugged for most of the time. The truth came out at the Fianna Fáil minifesto launch.
He was high on “the consensus” which, apparently, is even worse than the cigarettes. But Micheál is clean now and happy to face his demons. Militant humility is his stock in trade these days.
Everyone was at it back then, he argued. Even Fianna Fáil couldn’t resist the temptation. He regrets this.
“We didn’t stand up to the consensus – including myself,” he confessed.
He’s free now. Thank God.
But all the money is gone.
On the plus side, Martin, former strung-out stalwart of the boom years, is a man reborn.
Note to Mount Street: Is it too late for a new election slogan? “THEY made me do it.”
Loads of billboard options there – lovely full-page colour photo of Micheál from page 2 of the minifesto teamed with a varied cast of baddies in the background. Ahern and Cowen, glowering malevolently at the back of his head; Enda and Eamon, grinning like half-wits; the general public, surrounded by designer handbags and SUVs.
Because according to the vaguely contrite former minister, we were all cheerleaders for the consensus. We share the blame.
Now that he is reconstituted, he wants to join the Reform Club. It’s a very popular spot in Irish politics at the moment.
Things are different now, stresses Micheál in his application. Just because he used to be a leading light of the Bertie and Biffo years doesn’t mean he can’t change.
He is anxious to forget the past and move on and he hopes the voters will do likewise.
Micheál Martin: accessory to the crime or architect of the recovery? The public will pass judgment shortly.
He’s good at what he does, is the new leader. They must be kicking themselves in Fianna Fáil for not having the bottle to get rid of Brian Cowen earlier.
Given that he has few shots in his electoral locker, Martin handled the launch well, even if calling it a manifesto raises trade description issues – there’s damn all in it. Micheál’s minifesto is a slim volume.
But he was keeping it “real”. The event was about showcasing his “Real Plan”.
It reminded us of a popular brand of potato crisps which boasts on its packaging: “made with real ingredients”. As opposed to what? The launch took place in the Hugh Lane Gallery of Modern Art on Dublin’s Parnell Square. An exhibition of the work of Richard Tuttle is on at the moment. It’s called “Triumphs”. That’s just teasing.
Tragedies, would be more like.
Tuttle is a leading “post-minimalist artist”, as opposed to Micheál, who will be a leading minimalist politician after the size of his parliamentary party is slashed.
Upstairs at Triumphs, visitors to the gallery would have seen an, er, “Polysemous multipart horizontal installation”.
Downstairs, in the beautiful Sculpture Gallery, visitors would have seen a collection of mute figures known as “the Fianna Fáil front bench.” One of them, Éamon Ó Cuív, slept for most of the launch. He woke once or twice, but couldn’t keep his eyes open. He has since apologised, saying he only had a few hours of sleep before he had to travel from Galway for the morning kick-off.
At least he turned up. “Where’s Willie?” was the question of the day. Willie O’Dea, newly restored to the front bench, was missing.
Are they hiding him already? Micheál made a virtue of his Government’s mistakes. Fianna Fáil will be making no new spending commitments, he pledged. There will be no gimmicks. No soundbites (he keeps saying that, then contradicting himself. Yesterday, he talked about “the Punch and Judy show” that is the Dáil.)
Why this no-spend minifesto? “The reason for this is simple – the money is not there,” declared Deputy Martyr.
And whose fault is that, then? The atmosphere at the launch was flat, nothing like the razzmatazz of old to add a touch of excitement. That’s understandable. What was very different is the air of irrelevance that is beginning to envelop Fianna Fáil. Journalists dutifully asked their questions, but there was less urgency about the exchanges.
Micheál’s big talk about reform is easy for him now – he won’t have to implement it. Everyone knew that.
RTÉ’s Seán O’Rourke summed up the problem that faces the new Fianna Fáil leader – while he has great plans now, he can’t divorce himself from his involvement with the last three governments, when these plans could have been implemented.
“You’ve the credibility of somebody who claims he was abducted in Kingsbridge about 15 years ago after getting off the Cork train.”
Everything Micheál says invites comparison. “The government can’t afford to travel on a wing and a prayer,” he remarked, referring to some of Eamon Gilmore’s pious aspirations.
Ah, yes. Micheál was always a great fan of the government jet . . .