Una Mullally: Fianna Fáil has gone from stroke to joke

Fianna Fáil’s chaotic beginning in government is what happens when a cryogenically frozen party finds itself defrosted in a new era. It is now worth asking whether Fianna Fáil is fit to govern at all.

The party’s honeymoon period of about 2.5 seconds was downright laughable. This was an Armando Iannucci version of the party, right in the thick of it. No sooner had Micheál Martin become Taoiseach – a journey that doesn’t seem to have any signposts beyond that destination – than the chaos began.

Their opening week was coloured by a motley crew of self-involved jostling wannabes, either jilting gigs or bemoaning the fact that someone else got more treats than them – never mind the Barry Cowen fiasco. The din was tantamount to noise pollution, the ugly echoing clatter of narcissists trundling over the airwaves with all the self-importance parochial political office imbues. It wasn’t so much sharpening knives as fashioning shanks ready to lunge at Martin, despite the fact that he’s the one who has brought them to this point. What are they like?

Hey, this is what Fianna Fáil is: Mé Féin. They are The Real Housewives of the Dáil – all drama, dynasties, and one-off housing

What a great boon for Fine Gael – who love the idea of being the adults in the room – for Martin to have first dibs to appease his Gollum-like desire for the Taoiseach’s chair. The way things are going, Fianna Fáil will be in implosion mode on a fortnightly basis. Fine Gael has probably already fitted the home office with a popcorn machine.

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For a party reliant on a base that’s long in the tooth, Fianna Fáil’s current incarnation is incredibly juvenile. Given the multiple crises on nearly every front imaginable nationally and globally, they’d want to grow up fast. But hey, this is what Fianna Fáil is: Mé Féin. They are The Real Housewives of the Dáil – all drama, dynasties, and one-off housing. The Fianna Fáil bubble is mirrored and non-porous. Perspective appears largely absent. Do they know what they look like to those watching on? Two words: amateur hour.

Long-ball politics

Let’s take a lesson from the past. The sad death of Jack Charlton allows us to reflect on his many achievements and the joy he brought to Irish soccer fans. But it’s also worth remembering the playing style he encouraged. With a stable of players often devoid of world-class technical talent, yet full of spirit, it was all about the long ball. The quality of a pedestrian playing style didn’t matter when other teams found it hard to contend with. But then football moved on, and the latter era of Charlton’s team left them hoofing the ball into the box, searching for a fortunate header while everyone else played rings around them on the ground. It became less of a tactic and more of an act of hope. This is what Fianna Fáil looks like now, wedded to an outdated style they can’t escape, while the game has radically changed.

There is no appetite for a cycle of ridiculous controversies in the current circumstances

The bitterness from some quarters of Fianna Fáil – Barry Cowen in particular – affronted by how a confusing version of events regarding drink-driving and an odd driver’s licence history maintained its presence on front pages and on news bulletins, is both arrogant and delusional. It’s part of the media’s job to hold politicians to account. What are journalists meant to do? Look away from the train wreck, or rubberneck and investigate?

These kinds of shenanigans might make for decent theatre when there’s not much else going on, but there is no appetite for a cycle of ridiculous controversies in the current circumstances. We are facing the biggest public health crisis in modern history, and the greatest economic one. It is an insult to the seriousness of the moment, and to the monumental effort and sacrifices that have characterised the collective response of the public, and the social cohesion we have shown as a nation, for a party in government to be in such disarray.

No big idea

What exactly is Fianna Fáil’s mission in government? What is the Taoiseach’s big idea? We know that the party doesn’t so much plan as plot, but where are they bringing the country? Who is the modern voice of the party? Who speaks to or for a modern electorate? And what’s next? At what point will another Fianna Fáil TD or Minister become embroiled in another scandal? You know it’s going to happen. It’s in their DNA.

Their credibility – whatever they could muster in that short period after the election when we were meant to accept their return to power as something normal – is shot

For now, they’ve gone from stroke to joke, because the main existential issue for Fianna Fáil is no longer the anger or despair that greeted their return to power, it’s the increasing laughter from the stalls. Their credibility – whatever they could muster in that short period after the election when we were meant to accept their return to power as something normal– is shot. Fianna Fáil is a 20th-century party that has found itself unable to get to grips with 2020. Politics, the electorate and the media have moved on a lot over the past decade since they were in power, and Fianna Fáil has not been part of that change. With no ideas to channel outwards, they turn inwards and on themselves.

The electorate puts up with a certain amount of in-party jostling. Dissent and debate within parties is often a healthy sign. But not this. You can have all the scraps backstage that you want, so long as there are some decent actors treading the boards and reading from a quality script. But when all you have are barneys in the green room, then it’s curtains.