An Irishman's Diary

As another Dáil year ends, I see that the Government has accused the Opposition of having "no policies", while the Opposition has accused the Government of having "no plan". This is normal enough, I know. You'd expect them to say that sort of thing, even if it wasn't true. But just for once, it seems to me, both sides are equally right.

The problem with politics these days is like the problem with pop/rock music. In the latter case, there's a feeling that all the big ideas happened back in the 1960s and 1970s and that there have been no really exciting developments since. This notion was stated explicitly in a recent hit song, I Wish I was a Punk Rocker (with Flowers in my Hair). But its most obvious expression is the current plethora of tribute bands, from Bjorn Again to Dread Zeppelin, dedicated to reliving former glories rather than creating something new.

A similar trend has affected politics. Reporting from the Dáil over the past few years, it often struck me that - however spirited the performances sometimes were - I was watching tribute political parties, playing the classic tunes of their predecessors, but unwilling or unable to produce original material.

Take Fianna Fáil. It is surely no coincidence that the party's glory era coincided with the career of the Beatles. They both even split at about the same time: over Yoko Ono and the Arms Trial, respectively. Since when, arguably, Fianna Fáil has been a tribute to its former self, basking in the glories of Lemass-Whitaker (the Lennon and McCartney of Irish economic development) and in the results of Donough O'Malley's experiments with a mind-expanding drug called "free education".

The 1977 election manifesto briefly revived the old excitement. But it was soon clear that the document was the political equivalent of a Wings album. The party is still living down the embarrassment.

Fine Gael is an even sadder case. Decades before rock-and-roll bands took to wearing co-ordinated clothes, FG pioneered the use of uniforms. In the love-and-peace era, the "Blueshirts" were still innovating with their famous concept work, "A Just Society". Their ability to reinvent themselves survived even into the 1980s under charismatic front man Garret FitzGerald. Garret never had flowers in his hair, incidentally. But there was a time when he could have been growing cannabis plants in it and nobody would have known.

Now Fine Gael too seems stuck in its past, playing the old law-and-order riffs and trading off a back catalogue of fiscal rectitude (minus the misunderstood 1982 classic, "VAT on Children's Shoes"), while doing its more touchy-feely stuff as a slow set. The party has written some new material recently in collaboration with Labour. But this has been mostly in the "easy listening" category.

Labour itself is a cautionary tale. Back in the Woodstock era, it had a big hit with the catchy "The 70s will be Socialist". Like many bands of that era, however, its members were doomed to outlive their youthful lyrics. Cruel critics were soon predicting that "the Socialists will be 70" and, in some cases at least, this has proved more accurate than the original version. Unfortunately, the old Labour idea of redistribution went out with the Hammond organ. So, to pull in the crowds, modern Labour must avoid mentioning tax, public spending, or socialism, while retaining its social conscience. This is like a Beatles tribute band being confined to the songs of George and Ringo.

Sinn Féin is the oldest Dáil combo of all, and its members nearest fit the traditional image of hell-raising rockers. They certainly trashed a few hotel rooms in their time (allegedly). But although firmly wedded to the past, they have at least tried to do something new with the old material. The obvious parallel is with the aforementioned Dread Zeppelin, a band that plays Led Zeppelin in reggae style. Sinn Féin has also taken heavy metal - in a very real sense - and transformed it. As for economic policies, however, the party hasn't written any new stuff since 1969.

There are younger parties, of course. Yet even among these, Sargent Trevor's Lonely Hearts Club Band has a strong Sixties feel, thanks to its themes of love, peace, and opposition to a US war in Asia. By contrast, the PDs are more of a punk-era outfit. Concentrating on three chords (lower taxes, spending cuts, privatisation), they are currently personified by Michael McDowell - a colourful figure in the Sid Vicious mould, capable of being both amusing and scary at the same time.

The Dáil independents have banded together as the so-called "technical group", although any comparisons with German synthesiser outfit Kraftwerk are entirely accidental. Most of the Indie-label acts are acoustic performers, including the likes of Jackie Healy Rae and Mildred Fox, who used to be backing vocalists for the Government but are now unplugged.

Joe Higgins is the Joan Baez of the Opposition benches and demonstrates the enduring power of the protest song. But not even he would claim that there is anything new about his ideas. Elsewhere among the independents, Finian McGrath sometimes resembles an old-fashioned troubadour, singing ballads to his own guitar accompaniment. Wait a minute - that actually happened. Celebrity You're a Star, wasn't it? And there was me thinking this whole thing was just an analogy.