ARDFHEIS SKETCH:AFTER MANY years in the wilderness, the Promised Land looms. Delegates could see it on Saturday night. Yes, there it was – so close now, they could almost touch it. Or so they believed, writes MIRIAM LORD
A very lively Fine Gael ardfheis rounded off conference season on a high note. So high that at times it bordered on slightly hysterical. Party members, giddy at the thought of finally seeing their party return to power, cut loose and allowed themselves to dream.
They were egged on at every opportunity by Enda Kenny and a buoyant parliamentary party. The way the figures are stacking up at the moment, they are convinced it’s merely a short matter of time before Fine Gael forms the next government.
Cheerleader in chief for the main event was Michael Ring, the Mouth of Mayo. Michael has only three volume settings: Loud, Supersonic and Downright Dangerous. When he was called to the microphone (an unnecessary extravagance), the delighted crowd steeled themselves for an aural onslaught. He didn’t disappoint. From his opening words, which sent the Blueshirts into raptures, Ring cranked up the decibels and had the delegates up on their feet and roaring.
"I smell power! I SMELL POWER!" he tantalised, like the child-catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. The 5,000 supporters in the hall swooned. They stomped and applauded when he called time on the Government. "They're dreary, they're weary and it's time to get them out!"
Ring continued to crank up the volume – his fellow parliamentarians arrayed behind him on the stage, bleeding from the ears but still smiling.
“We’re ready for government,” thundered Ring, sweeping an arm in the direction of his colleagues: “Look at them. Look at them here TAH-nigh-it!” As Ring bellowed, the sheepish deputies, Senators and election candidates struggled to look masterful.
Ring should have given a special mention to Simon Coveney, who worked late into the night on his conference speech last Thursday, leaving his Leinster House office in the early hours. Simon was met by gardaí as he left the building, having triggered 16 silent alarms on his way out.
Back at Citywest, one overwrought delegate charged up to the platform and attempted to embrace the rattling Ring, only to be expertly shoved off course by an alert party handler.
Michael, meanwhile, was building up to a big finish. He unleashed a deafening: “Don’t give out about them – Get them out and keep them out!” Despite their tinnitus, the audience rose up and raised the roof. Women punched the air and men were buck leppin’ and yahooing.
A funny video was played to calm things down. It gave people time to examine the new party logo. It looks like a multi-coloured, slightly wonky starfish. Or a ninja star. The more artistically minded reckoned they saw an abstract of a burning man in it. With its geometric design and five pointy bits, we think it’s an Indagon.
As the build-up to the keynote address continued, heat levels soared. Justice spokesman Charlie Flanagan said that the party leader, “despite his modest exterior, has a spine of steel”.
Charlie was followed by the ubiquitous Senator Paschal Donohoe, FG’s standard bearer in the Dublin Central byelection. “The people don’t want national government, they want rational government,” trilled young Paschal. The delegates went mad.
Richard Bruton, the crowd’s darling, stepped up and got a standing ovation before he even opened his mouth.
Finally, with the grassroots on the verge of nervous collapse, the party leader made his entrance. The double doors at the top of the room were flung open to reveal Indakinny skidding at speed around the bar area. When he reached the hall, he threw both arms up and belted towards the stage. The music chosen for this stirring moment was Shining Light (which Enda was not keeping under a bushel) by Ash.
Right on cue, the footsoldiers lost the plot.
Just like Eamon Gilmore the previous week in Mullingar, Enda Kenny’s delivery of his script raised what was a fairly bland speech to a higher level. He was fired up and focused. When he casually made a reference to things he will do “as Taoiseach”, the party faithful went wild. They jumped up and cheered, beside themselves with the idea of it.
When he said it again: “One of my first acts of Taoiseach”, it looked like the stewards would have to start administering oxygen. But you couldn’t blame the Fine Gaelers. Over a decade without a whiff of government, with a terrifying phase in the middle where they feared the party might collapse altogether, has made them hungry for a return to power.
At the recent Fianna Fáil ardfheis in the same venue, delegates put on a great show for the outside world, keeping up appearances as only they can. But their indomitable spirit was clearly under strain. The media, for the first time, was excluded from the post-speech reception, where the Taoiseach and Ministers mingle with their conference guests.
It was very different this time. Fine Gael delegates were pumped up and ready for action. The post-speech reception was, as usual, open to the media and the atmosphere was convivial, despite all the recent reporting of tensions within the party.
But have they got what it takes to go into government? This is where Enda Kenny had his Obama moment – please God let it be the last reworking by an Irish politician of the US president’s election slogan. The man who sees himself as Taoiseach-in-waiting rounded off his speech with a large slice of cheese for the frothing footsoldiers. “My call to the Irish people is different. It’s not just ‘Yes We Can’ but ‘Yes We Will’. Together, ‘Yes We Will’.” Such was the mood, he just about got away with it.