Stagg labours with subordinate bonds

STANDING OUTSIDE in the sunshine at the pond, Emmet Stagg exhaled deeply on his cigarette. He had a dangerous glint in his eye, but little did his companions suspect what was about to come next.

He cleared his throat.

“Eh, Joan,” said the Labour TD for Kildare North to his party’s spokeswoman on finance.

“Yes?” she smiled.

“Joan, what are subordinated bond holders?” There was a gasp from Labour handlers; senior politicians turned pale and two journalists fainted on the spot.

“Well,” began Joan of Arkle, settling in for the opening furlong as she snatched a press release from the nearest trembling hand and folded it in two. “Now Emmet, imagine this is an IOU for 10 million euro, and I’m giving this to you . . .” And she was off.

My God, but Joan Burton knows her way around Nama and subordinated debt and risk-sharing and well, it’s all really quite simple, although it can sound complicated, but you have to remember, and as was recently pointed out . . .

Finally, as the handlers stroked their new beards, the politicians came to and the journalists wept, Deputy Burton brought her excellent explanation to a close.

Marvellous stuff, and we now could all get back to discussing spring bulbs, because it was that sort of day outside Faithlegg House Hotel with the air warm and grassy and the sound of golf ball pinging off metal providing agreeable accompaniment to the September birdsong .

But Emmet had this puzzled look on his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something. He closed it. The rest of the group heaved a sigh of relief. Then he opened his mouth again and spoke. “Eh, Joan. So what exactly is a bond then?” Burton took a deep breath and took off again.

This Nama stuff is tough going.

No wonder Eamon Gilmore was out five minutes later, breathing fire and talking of revolution, manning the barricades and storming the ramparts. (Or at least staging a big public protest against Nama in advance of the Dáil debate). It’s going to be on Wednesday at 1pm, outside Leinster House, all welcome, bring along an attitude and a strong opposition to the Government’s bank rescue package.

Eamon wants to see a good old Nama-lama-ding-dong. Then, after some polite mayhem on the streets “we will carry the fight into the chamber of Dáil Éireann and make the case on behalf of the taxpayers of this country.” Nama and burning torches. Firebrand Gilmore vowed his party would use every tactic possible in an effort to defeat the legislation.

“All tactics? Will you be considering some sort of civil disturbance?” inquired a reporter, voice brimming with hope.

“Oh no! We’re not!” You could sense the disappointment on the other side of the microphone.

Oh, but we were sick of Nama. Brian Lenihan was on the radio all day talking about it. Press statements were flying out of Richard Bruton at two-minute intervals. Whither the Greens? Whither Nama? Burton called Brian Lenihan “The Tsar of Nama” and said he has “awesome powers to direct whatever he wishes to happen to Nama, the loans and the assets that are Namafied in the Nama process.” Eamon Gilmore talked of a “Toxic Triangle,” declared the Greens are wearing “a genetically-modified fig-leaf” and rubbished suggestions of imposing a windfall tax on speculators because “the windfall has well and truly bolted.” This is only the start, you know.

“We will now have the Bill examined, line by line,” said Burton. This was not a threat, it just sounded like one.

The Labour crowd were very impressed by what the professor who came to their think-in told them about Nama. Clearly, it didn’t stay long with Emmet Stagg, but no matter, because he has Joan.

Two days earlier in Cavan, Fine Gael had experts of their own delivering nuggets of wisdom. It will be the same for FF and the Greens. A travelling circus of academics has been doing the rounds of conferences and think-ins over the summer, delivering papers on the economic crisis to grateful but stupefied audiences. Ireland’s new entertainment stars – the financial fit-ups.

One commentator told us yesterday that he’s heard one well-known economist’s speech four times already this year. At least some people are doing well.

We’re stupefied. And there’s no end in sight.