Labour leader forced to make tentative first moves as clock ticks and Independents circle, writes FRANK McNALLY
IDEALLY, EAMON Gilmore would have spent the weekend playing hard to get, with Enda Kenny in the role of desperate suitor.
However, Fine Gael’s initial aloofness post-election and rumours that it was playing footsie under the table with “like-minded Independents”, seemed to force a change of plan.
Thus, instead of defending his honour against the Blueshirts’ crudely amorous advances – the traditional role for Labour leaders whenever Fianna Fáil fails to win a majority – this time it was Gilmore who had to make the first tentative moves.
In interviews yesterday, he addressed his potential coalition partners with come-hither eyes. Although his language was statesmanlike, he insisted repeatedly that, as the largest party, it was Fine Gael’s “call” to initiate negotiations. And it was clear that it was more than just a metaphor.
Indeed, sensing his anguish that the phone hadn’t rung yet, RTÉ’s Miriam O’Callaghan asked if he’d consider making the call himself. Anything goes these days, after all. Whereupon the Labour leader turned from being coy to coquettish. “Maybe I might,” he said, the double qualification failing to hide a twinkle in the eye.
No doubt Enda Kenny’s apparent coldness was only a stratagem. The temporary estrangement between the two parties looked less like Heathcliff and Cathy – doomed by their different social backgrounds – and more like Napoleon and Josephine. If it didn’t happen last night, they’ll probably get it together it today.
Even so, you sensed a certain impatience from the man whose party needs to have a special conference before entering coalition. He reminded everybody that they only had until March 9th to agree a deal. It was a “window of opportunity”, he added, but only a “narrow window”.
Maybe sporting distractions explained the delayed start of communications. Not only was the Irish rugby team playing Scotland but, as will not have been lost on either the taoiseach-in-waiting or his likely tánaiste – GAA fans both – the Sunday afternoon stand-off also coincided with a National League football match between their home counties. Ominously for Gilmore, Mayo won that confrontation easily.
There were no such worries 24 hours earlier when the Labour leader arrived for the first-count declaration in Dún Laoghaire. The so-called “Gilmore Gale” had seemed fatally becalmed with a week of the campaign to go. But it was back up to a stiff breeze, at least, by Saturday afternoon, when the man who caused it was confirmed as poll-topper for the first time in his 22-year Dáil career. Gilmore had also led Labour to the greatest result in its 100-year history, making it the State’s second largest party for the first time. “Historic,” he called it. And he could rightly claim to have helped bring about the long-awaited end of civil war politics (albeit with some help from the IMF).
But there was a slight sense of anti-climax too. For one thing, both of what are now the Republic’s two largest political blocks had had their successes well foreshadowed. Also, at different times, each had been given tantalising glimpses of even greater breakthroughs.
Maybe it was because the “Gilmore for taoiseach” slogan had so rebounded on him that, on Saturday, the Labour leader didn’t even want to talk about Gilmore for tánaiste (it was too early then, he said, with so many seats – including the one sought by his running mate, Ivana Bacik – still to be decided).
As for Fine Gael, perhaps it was the fleeting prospect of an overall majority that made them less than enthusiastic for Labour’s embraces and tempted by the illicit thrill of sowing wild oats among the Independents. If so, Eamon Gilmore didn’t wish to appear too judgmental yesterday. He merely reminded them he had so much more he had to offer.
After an election, he reminded us, the second largest party “normally goes into opposition”. But this was not a normal situation. What Labour was prepared to discuss with Fine Gael was “effectively a national government”. Again, however, it was Fine Gael’s “call to make”.
A week can be a short time in politics, especially when you have a coalition to negotiate and you then have to sell the deal to your party membership. The window of opportunity, narrow to begin with, was getting even narrower last night. Despite which, and insofar as decorum allowed, the Labour leader was doing his best to sing under it.