There's An Election On The Way

There are signs and portents everywhere. The logjam is breaking. The ice is melting. Decisions are being made. Embarrassments are being faced now – and not left for later. Nobody has said a thing, but all the signs are that we are now counting down to an election.

The publication of the Morris Report and the consequent retirement of certain senior Gardaí is one small step. But there are many more.
For example, in early May, the Minister for the Environment, Dick Roche paved the ground for the Tara motorway. He did this against the best advice of senior archaeological figures. He may yet wind up being condemned in various heritage councils around the world. The only reason why he would willingly invite such opprobrium is that many electors in Meath want a motorway to speed them homewards from the Blanchardstown Roundabout. There’s Fianna Fáil seat at stake.
What matter that it won’t solve the traffic jam they meet when they come within five kilometres of the roundabout on the way in? What matter that light from the interchanges may well ruin the winter solstice at Newgrange? What matter that he – and by extension, we as a nation – will be seen as vandals throughout the civilised world?
It matters nought against the imperatives of an election, and the bad news that popularity poles have brought for the government this week.
Ditto the agreement on a second terminal at Dublin airport, and the sale of the Government stake in Aer Lingus. It doesn’t really add up, but there’s a lot of airport workers in north Dublin and whatever else happens, they have to be placated.
But the real signs are more simple and brutal and many of them revolve around Michael McDowell.
I suppose that each era has its way of throwing up an ogre, an individual who encapsulates the things that people most dislike about the times, a person who is or becomes the butt of even his allies’ dislike.
That’s McDowell. Admirers say he’s an intelligent and agreeable companion, for example at dinner. It could be true. But all that most of us know of him is what we see in public.
It can certainly be argued that McDowell has been the focus of a great deal of anger and media manipulation by both single-issue campaigners and the media. On immigration he has been between a rock and a hard place. On the Gardaí, he has been left to clean up after the miserable performances of his predecessors and especially those in Fianna Fáil. But mostly he’s been the architect of his own bad press.
For a long time it mattered little. The Government was secure in itself and, thanks to the ringing endorsement of the electorate, coasting along. Then came the local election results and the kind of mid-term kick in the arse that sets the tongues wagging, and the fingers itching. Trouble, indeed, was brewing.
The presence of Father Seán Healy at a Fianna Fáil breast-beating function in Inchydoney was the first sign. More followed.
Fianna Fáil has always been a coalition in itself, binding cold technocracy, pragmatic modernism and populist conservatism into a broad, powerful electoral blend. Inchydoney marks the moment in which the pragmatists and populists within Fianna Fail reasserted themselves.
They chose their targets well. Charlie McCreevy had been the first to go. Now, in the wake of Inchydoney, while Ministers baited the Opposition, backbenchers smeared the PDs and McDowell in particular.
A coalition Government can handle a certain amount of internal bickering and posturing. Indeed, it could be seen as healthy. But when the background noise begins to drown out the official noises, you know you’re close to tipping point.
It is good to hear people like Pat Carey tackling the issue of ASBOs. Carey is a very good parliamentarian and constituency politician. Many were surprised that he was passed over for promotion in the last reshuffle.
But equally, it is emblematic of where the true power bases are, that the issue that has tipped Fianna Fáil against its coalition partner – and towards election – is McDowell’s proposal to introduce café bars.
Actually, it’s a good idea! Why the Sam Hill would they oppose it?
Well, opposing the introduction of café bars allows Fianna Fáil to look like the plain people of Ireland, ruling out D4 tomfoolery, whether nancyboy or hardline. And doing so marks the point at which the senior Government party starts to clear the ground for divorce.
They may do it sooner rather than later, but if they do they’ll soldier on until next spring with the help of independents from the Fianna Fáil family. The election will probably be in May 2006, but the run-in starts here. Last time they went as partners. This time they won’t. They’re on the pull again.
People get ready.