Miriam Lord: Claire Byrne like a teacher addressing senior infants

A piece of white paper fell from one podium, floating airily to the ground like a lady’s handkerchief. It was like time stood still.

The Taoiseach pointed it out to the Fianna Fáil leader, who was wearing a Fine Gael blue tie. Micheál Martin gave a little smile, stuck out his foot and tried to coax back the stray page. It remained on the floor. Enda left it there.

If Micheál was sending a signal to a coalition intended, it didn’t work. The camera cut to the audience. People were smiling. Nearly half an hour had passed. It was the highlight of the night.

The Claire Byrne Live Leaders' Debate was never going to provide the fireworks, or the game-changing answers, we always dare to expect of these big election specials.

But at least the show lived up to its title – Claire Byrne asked the questions and the leaders were live, plucked straight from the political tank backstage.

Although it was touch and go at the start, when there were fears that Enda Kenny might perish before he even got inside the studio. He arrived at the University of Limerick in his shirt sleeves.

The temperature was below zero, but Enda, most likely at the prompting of a deluded handler, swaggered from his car to the door, suit jacket slung nonchalantly over his shoulder. He looked ridiculous, walking like Pat Mustard on his way for an assignation with Mrs Doyle.

The jacket was back on once the seven-way debate began, because it’s always Baltic under those television lights.

Jargon

Seven leaders, nearly two hours. At the outset, Claire sensibly took the approach of a teacher addressing a roomful of senior infants. (The junior infants were on TV3, for a deputy leaders’ debate.)

She instructed them to be respectful of each other, the studio audience and the people at home.

And she would have a special gold star for those boys and girls who didn’t use jargon.

The protagonists spent nearly half an hour on the first question. It was quite a simple one. Pearse, in the audience, asked why anybody should believe the politicians’ election promises, going on past experiences?

The Taoiseach, slightly breathless, said the improving economy should not be taken for granted and we must “keep the recovery going”. And all over the land came the first happy cry of “bingo!” and drink was raised.

There were speeches from Micheál Martin, Richard Boyd Barrett and Lucinda Creighton. Stephen Donnelly and Gerry Adams answered the question.

The Sinn Féin leader decided attack with a pointed one-liner was the best course of action. The worst offenders in the broken promise department were “the three amigos” to his right – Kenny, Burton and Martin.

Adams launched an attack on Kenny, who ignored Adams and attacked Martin who attacked Kenny who attacked Adams who attacked Burton. And so it went for the rest of the night.

The other leaders – Boyd Barrett for the AAA/PBP, Creighton of Renua, Donnelly representing the Social Democrats, were tolerated by the big four. But the audience seemed to like the contributions from the representatives of the smaller parties more than the catchphrases and buzzwords of the heavyweights.

It wasn’t long before Adams got emotional about “the centenary of 19 and 16”. Slainté! And more drink was lashed down.

Twice, men were met on the street in Mayo. Gerry’s man was crying from despair, Enda’s man was crying for joy because his family were home from abroad. “Cheers!”

Salut!

Joan Burton

didn’t took happy. “Can I just say?” she pleaded. Oh. That’s another shot. Salut!

It seemed to go on forever. We wondered who might be the first to faint. Byrne battled away to keep order, like the conductor of a very discordant orchestra.

Did any virtuosi emerge from the confusion?

Nobody was note perfect, but Donnelly and Boyd Barrett were measured and sensible and seemed to win the audience vote. The rest held their own.

The action turned to the Spin Room where everyone pretends they are in London or Washington with hundreds of people, instead of the usual handful of hacks and handlers.

Viewers must have been tempted to switch over to TV3 and the deputy leaders – AK47 Kelly, Dicey Reilly, Bazza Cowen and Máire Leithreas McDonald.

We hear they spent the day eating raw meat.