The question of disaffection is universal in all political parties - from those Fianna Fáil backbenchers itching for a heave against Cowen, to the Fine Gaelers who cringe when Enda is on the telly. But there has to be a distinction drawn between disillusionment in ideologically-motivated parties, like the Greens, and the two tribal civil war parties, which have far more in common than is healthy for a democracy, and whose differences seem to be more about managerial style and personality. The fact there is no interest in a National FF/FG Coalition to help save the country speaks volumes - it would be enormously challenging, healing, democratic and transformative. And enlightening.

But transformation or change is not what those two parties are about. Both are essentially clientelist and broad-church, pragmatist and centrist. Indeed, one could argue that it was only when Fianna Fáil became infected with the PD free-market ideology, that that’s when the real damage was done to our country. For all the Galway Tent shenanigans, if the party had remained committed to cautious, solid regulation of the economy and not fallen for the “greed is good” neo-liberal capitalist myths peddled by the PDs, we would still be in a hole due to the global recession, we’d still have property developers going bust and factories closing - but our economy would still be functional. Smaller, but functional.
Ideology is a powerful force in Irish life, precisely because it is so rare in our political classes. Even the Labour party, at the last General Election, was calling to introduce lower tax rates if they were elected, which was a bizarre abandonment of core economic principles - our tax rates were already low by European standards. Which, of course, exacerbates our current difficulties.
In the main, those who aspire to be politicians in Ireland do so because they primarily want to be in charge, to manage, to become part of the ruling political class. George Lee’s disaffection with politics was simply because he failed to cut it in managerial terms. He was not equipped to play the traditional political game, he was very much at odds with the dominant political culture in this republic.
And yet, this could have been a virtue: his massive election victory was secured precisely because of his eloquent critical voice. His mistake, perhaps, was to join Fine Gael - indeed, to join any party. The route mapped out for him was already laid out by Martin Bell in the UK, and, oddly enough, the late Tony Gregory here - someone who articulated his vision and politics and ideals and never changed his tune to suit anyone else. If George Lee had had the courage of his convictions, and a true desire to serve his constituents and deliver precisely what they elected him to do, he could have electrified the nation on NAMA day with passionate rhetoric from the Independent back benches, and, if he so chose, emerged as a popular leader of a new political reform movement, to change the way all politics is done. The fact that he wimped out tells me that he didn’t have the imagination to take that road, that his desire was primarily narcissistic, not idealistic. He wanted Fine Gael to recognize him as special, and was disaffected when they didn’t, without realizing that, funnily enough, he already was. (And, in a curious way, still could be.)
Disaffection in an ideologically-driven party like the Greens, however, follows a slightly different pattern. There are similarities, of course - Déirdre de Burca springs to mind, exasperated that her desire to manage, to be in charge of something, was frustrated - but in the main it’s a classic case of what happens when a counterculture movement goes mainstream. The price the Greens are paying now, in terms of losing disaffected members and infuriating those who hate Fianna Fáil, is willingly, albeit grimly, being tolerated. The reward has yet to come, however, as not enough solid green advances have been made in government, to make the inevitable drubbing in the next election worthwhile. The next year will be crucial in determining whether this decision was worth it.
Bryan Mukandi, in his “outsidein” blog in the Irish Times, was reflecting on the nature of politics recently, after the Green Party conference. He was querying the classic “fundamentalists versus pragmatists” discourse which informs most debates about the Greens. He favoured Foucault’s perspective, that politics is a continuation of war by any other means. “I just cannot see how you change the culture of a place by adopting it,” he says, referring to the progression of the greens from “quirky” individuals banding together with passionate ideals, to besuited members of the political élite, fully acclimatized to establishment norms, and comfortable with its compromises.
“What if the social structure of the political process bends all who participate into the mould of the typical politician?” he asks. It’s the Animal Farm view of the world.
I was an activist in the campaign against the proposed nuclear power station in Carnsore Point, marching and camping there in protest, way back in 1978. That was green politics at its purest - a counterculture at its most passionate, and its first taste of success. I have no doubt that had a proposal been mooted at the time to take energy directly from Windscale or any other nuclear power station by cable it would have met with similar resistance at that time. For all the fact that the Carnsore protests were classic NIMBY, we educated ourselves about nuclear waste and the enormous risks, and would have boycotted such a link.
In 2001, the first energy interconnector was built between Northern Ireland and Scotland. In 2005, the Irish and Northern Irish electricity markets effectively merged. Half of Scotland’s electricity is from nuclear power. Therefore, for the past five years at least, a proportion of the electricity humming through our cables originates in a nuclear power station.
My memory must be fading, because I can’t quite remember the day the country took to the streets in protest against our becoming paying customers of the nuclear power industry.
Now, we have a Green minister of Energy who is enthusiastically making long-term plans to further connect us to an extensive energy grid between the UK and the coastal nations of North Western Europe, with the admirable aim of positioning Ireland as an energy exporter after peak oil. The energy that we will be producing will largely be sustainable and zero-carbon. However, the more we are integrated, the less control we will have over the energy that’s pumped over to us in these two-way cables. So, for example, if we are stuck in the middle of a high pressure weather system for a week or two in winter - subzero temperatures, no wind - our demand for energy would be high, and our capacity to create it low. Our dependency on renewables will, paradoxically lead us, occasionally, to depend more on British nuclear power than ever before. Is this a price worth paying? I’m inclined to say “yes”. Dreams come true, not free.
And, in so many ways, the revolutionary circle would complete. And this circle is echoed in the Green party, over so many issues. But, it is also discernable in any other movement that makes the journey from radical outsider to establishment.
Take Irish republicanism. It will most likely be a Fianna Fáil government that welcomes the British monarch to the Republic of Ireland, on a state visit, probably later this year - and the welcome will be genuine on all counts. And none will be happier, I imagine, than our Fianna Fáil president. But of course, there will be a curious rattling sound emanating from Arbour Hill, as the 1916 leaders spin furiously in their graves. In time, some principles have to be let go, as the world changes. It’s simply a question of timing.