Offaly poor showing

With a political year as dramatic as this, who could blame the Taoiseach for wanting a bit of Bertie’s luck

THE YEAR opened with former taoiseach Bertie Ahern battling to save his own bacon, and it drew to a close with the Taoiseach Brian Cowen battling to save the nation’s bacon.

In between, we endured Bertie’s long goodbye and Brian’s extended hello. Recession reared its ugly head, there was mutiny on the Budget and meltdown in the banks.

Bertie Ahern was at the helm in January – three election victories, 11 years as Taoiseach and 14 years as Fianna Fáil leader under his belt. But the wheels were coming off his bandwagon. The Mahon tribunal continued enquiring about the source of all the extra money that came his way when he was minister for finance.

In the middle of his Mahon difficulties, Bertie landed “a singular honour for Ireland” when he was invited to address the US Congress at the end of April.

It was difficult to concentrate on other matters while the Dublin Castle panto rumbled on, but Lisbon hadn’t gone away. Ahern, on the eve of another appearance in the witness box, dismissed campaigners against the treaty as “loo-lahs of every kind and shape.”

In March, Declan Ganley launched his Libertas anti-treaty campaign with the slogan “Facts, not Politics”. The then foreign minister Dermot Ahern battled manfully, while Minister for European Affairs Dick Roche tried unsuccessfully to explain the complicated contents of the Lisbon Treaty.

All grist to the mill of the anti-treaty campaigners, who, very early on, rolled out business big hitters like Declan Ganley and Ulick McEvaddy to tell the public how they didn’t get where they are today by signing documents they don’t understand. (Business big hitters employ lawyers to understand their contracts for them before they sign.)

As March drew to a close, Bertie Ahern’s secretary Gráinne Carruth appeared before the Mahon tribunal. She spent an agonising two days in the witness box, insisting she never lodged sterling cash amounts for Bertie. He was gone less than a week later.

There was a surprise announcement on the morning of April 2nd, made from the stairs in the marbled hall of Government Buildings with a shook-looking Cabinet standing around.

“I know in my heart of hearts that I have done no wrong, and wronged no one,” he said. Brian Cowen became Taoiseach-elect. Bertie embarked on a month-long lap of honour, taking in America, the Vatican, every hamlet and community hall in the country.

All the while, the No to Lisbon campaign was picking up speed.

At the beginning of May, Bertie starred in a stunning closing number at the site of the Battle of the Boyne in Meath. He roped in Big Ian Paisley, cabinet ministers past and present, a concert orchestra, horses, gunpowder, a chorus of Orangemen, bus loads of dignitaries, a battalion of journalists and 300 years of Irish history for his last hurrah.

FINALLY, THE NEW man got his turn. There were wild celebrations inside and outside Leinster House, when what seemed like half of Offaly descended on the Dáil to see Brian Cowen become Taoiseach. It was a special moment for Brian, his family, his friends and supporters. They danced on the plinth and sang verse upon verse of The Offaly Rover. They packed the bars and restaurants and the overflow decamped to a nearby hotel where the celebrations went on late into the night.

The fun transferred to Offaly that weekend, when the new Taoiseach returned in triumph to Tullamore and Clara. Some of the scenes of a happy Cowen singing his heart out on the back of a lorry upset a few people who like to consider themselves urban sophisticates, and left them shuddering sourly into their Chablis.

Finally, the Yes campaign cranked creakily into action before the June referendum. An hour after the ballot boxes opened, the experts knew the No side had it. The political establishment was shocked.

Declan Ganley was now a player. “This is a great day for democracy across Europe,” he said. Just before Christmas, Libertas went European.

Late in June, the ESRI published a report confirming the economy is in recession. In July, the bankers arrived in Leinster House and talked down to a Dáil committee. Everything is fine, assured the bankers.

The passionate words and plain talk from those days in Clara and Tullamore were a distant memory. “We must work within the spending limits we have set ourselves to underline confidence in ourselves going forward and to devise a strategy next year that will be sufficient to be sustainable going forward. That is the position,” he explained.

Brian went into hiding. Bertie kept up his public appearances and did a little television presenting. It rained all summer as the economy continued to go down the drain.

Bertie Ahern’s final tribunal appearance came in September.

The Great Banking Crisis, that the bankers refused to contemplate in July, hit in October when a deputation of executives came, cap in hand, to the Taoiseach and Minister for Finance and said they were in dire straits.

Late-night Dáil and Seanad sittings were held to get the relevant legislation quickly into law. The Seanad sat all night to get the measures through, with Finance Minister Brian

Lenihan playing a blinder, steering through the legislation as the hours rolled by; a lens fell out of his glasses and his five o’clock shadow darkened.

The Two Brians received plaudits for their prompt response to the (continuing) banking crisis. But they didn’t have much time to rest on their laurels. While all the commotion was happening with the banks, the Budget for 2009 was also being put together. Due to the worsening financial situation, it was decided to bring it forward. It was, he told a soon to be outraged citizenry, “a call to patriotic action”.

Within days, teachers, farmers, the low paid, disability groups, and most of all, pensioners, were up in arms. A botched plan to abolish the automatic right to a medical card for all pensioners provoked fury.

Brian Cowen had to rush out to RTÉ on a Friday night and go on the news to reassure the pensioners. He did nothing of the sort, resorting to his beloved jargon by noting that “not everyone, perhaps, has internalised the gravities and difficulties of the situation”.

Independent TD Finian McGrath withdrew his support for the Government. Fianna Fáil deputy Joe Behan resigned the party in disgust. Over 15,000 OAPs marched on the Dáil, putting the fear of God into the Government backbenchers.

The measures were considerably watered down and guillotined into law by the government in December.

News of lavish overspending on expenses in the State agency Fás brightened up the end of the year, with reports of first-class travel to Florida and numerous trips to the Nasa space agency for officials. The director general of the agency resigned, but not before Brian Cowen said the man had his full support.

Bertie meanwhile, trundled about in his wheelchair having broken his foot, making public appearances all over the place and being treated like a movie star.

As for Brian Cowen, he had a crisis in the pig industry to handle, an economy going down the pan and a solution to the referendum debacle to find. Maybe some of Bertie’s luck will rub off on him next year, when he takes a second run at Lisbon.