The former taoiseach's desire to shape his legacy sits uneasily with his desire to remain in the limelight, writes NOEL WHELAN
IT IS hard to avoid coverage of former taoisigh and their views in the media these days even during the advert breaks.
The late John A Costello has belatedly become the subject of a definitive biography in the form of David McCullough’s tome The Reluctant Taoiseach. Seán Lemass has been centre stage in all the recent nostalgia about John F Kennedy’s visit to Ireland. Éamon de Valera has already been the subject of bookshelves of biographies to which has now been added a recent one by Anthony Jordan focusing on his faith. The late Charles Haughey has been in the news as his family handed over personal and political papers concerning his association with the Blasket Islands to the State.
Meanwhile, in the land of the living, Garret FitzGerald and John Bruton continue to be prolific in their contributions to public debate.
Launching McCullough’s book two weeks ago, the normally reluctant former taoiseach Liam Cosgrave gave a sterling 40-minute exposition on his time in politics. Cosgrave’s agreement to do the Costello book launch, and to make himself available again a week later to launch Gay Mitchell’s book on political reform are noteworthy because Cosgrave, now a sprightly 90-year-old, has maintained an extremely low profile since he left office in 1977.
The same cannot be said for our most recent former occupant of the taosieach’s office. All premiers find it difficult to adjust when they lose power; they miss the infrastructure and attention that goes with being a head of government and find it difficult to carve out a role in their post premier years. If recent efforts are anything to go by Bertie Ahern seems to be finding it more difficult than most.
The circumstances of Ahern’s retirement were far from ideal for any politician anxious to find a new niche or to protect his legacy. He may have managed in the last two years of his term to stay ahead of the curve on tribunal allegations, but the timing of his departure was not of his own choosing.
In the three years since he resigned however, the economic crisis and the collapse in Fianna Fáil’s support have meant his reputation has crumbled. Economic and political achievements, which originally shone brightly, have been badly tarnished. Only his achievement in the Northern peace process stands unblemished.
There is an ironic moment in Tony Blair’s recent memoir A Journey where, when describing the day he left Downing Street after a decade in office, he says “maybe in time a more comprehensive assessment of the 10 years will come. Maybe not. But my own assessment of it no longer depends on whether it comes or does not.” The suggestion that Blair cares not what commentators or historians ultimately make of his tenure would sound more credible if it did not come near the end of a 700-page autobiography clearly designed to justify his political Journey.
All politicians fret about what others think of them. That obsession does not end the day they retire. The higher the office they achieve the more they feel compelled to explain their actions, to shape their legacy and to protect their reputation. One gets a sense that Ahern’s desire to shape his legacy sits uneasy with his desire to remain in the public limelight. The first task which he undertook in retirement was to write his memoirs. Prime ministerial memories are welcome. Few have rushed to print as soon as Ahern.
Ahern’s public flirtation with the idea of running for mayor of Dublin and more recently of running for the presidency is peculiar. Always the shrewdest of political analysts, he must know that his chances of getting a nomination for either post are very weak and his prospects of being elected to either position significantly weaker still. It seems he needs the occasional attention the idea brings.
The lowest point for his reputation since leaving office was clearly the recent News of the World advertisement, and for that he has only himself to blame. Even before it hit our TV screens, the clip of the former taoiseach squashed into a cupboard drinking tea became a big hit on YouTube and social networks. In the weeks since, it has generated pages and pages of unfavourable comment. One London-based ex-pat friend of mine, reacting to another friend’s posting of the clip on Facebook, summed up Ahern’s mistake well. It was genuinely heartbreaking, he said, to see a former leader show such a lack of self-respect but more importantly it suggested he clearly has no empathy for those who looked up to him.
The fodder which Ahern gave to his enemies by participating in the advert has been best captured in a photograph mock-up doing the rounds on e-mail which shows him in the cupboard as one of those freed by the Chilean miners rescue effort.
The disappointment felt by his supporters is best summed up by the reaction of Tipperary North Ógra Fianna Fáil. The headline post on their Facebook page the night the advert first aired simply screamed: “What the hell was Bertie Ahern thinking”.
Ahern was the longest-serving taoiseach in the history of the State. For the foreseeable future he will continue to be one of the focuses of public and political anger. In time, some re-evaluation will come. Historians are likely to view his tenure a little more favourably than most of the public does at present and a lot less favourably than the electorate did when he was in office.