In order to write about politics, or talk about politics, or really spend much time thinking about politics at all, you sort of have to love politics. To some extent, you must see it as a sport, and draw the same entertainment from rumours of ministerial comings and goings that a young lad of ten years old draws from offseason transfer rumours in the English Premiership: “Donnelly to education? For 200 grand a year? They’ve robbed us!”
The Irish political class, and those who cover them, tend to take this fandom to extremes. Having been involuntarily exposed online to a small bit of the coverage of the big handover this weekend, the thing that struck me wasn’t so much what was happening, as it was the utter excitement of the politicians and the journalists about the rumours. At one stage, Dara Calleary was apparently “seen” near the Taoiseach’s office, and there came a boomlet of reporting that rumours were flying that Mayo’s finest was “in the frame” for some job or other. Alas, in the end, no such promotion came, but tongues got a few hours worth of wagging in, and wonks got to update their weird cabinet prediction spreadsheets with all sorts of permutations, and fun was had by all. Or at least, by those partaking in it, and writing about it.
Late on Saturday evening, a Fine Gael Senator taunted the press. They had got it wrong, he had got it right, and that was the main thing:
Media got it all wrong. Said there would be changes @Michael_O_Regan @leeofthemail @DrennanPolitics
— Senator Paddy Burke (@paddyburke18) December 17, 2022
For the rest of us, let’s be honest, nothing has changed, and nor was it ever likely to change.
It was all a bit overdone, really – the melancholic farewell tour for a Taoiseach whose primary legacy in terms of changing the country will be…. what, exactly? The new suits. The perfectly manicured nails and coiffed hair. The special Saturday Dáil sitting. The gossip. The excitement. The lamest speech in human history:
We are witnessing one of the great parliamentary speeches pic.twitter.com/ybEHmhBwqt
— jack (@jackalexe) December 17, 2022
Here’s the thing: none of it was for us. All of it, every last bit of it, was for them.
And that, really, is the thing that should offend us. Because here we have, without any election, or consultation of the voters, the highest political office in the land changing hands on a backroom deal.
Not a backroom deal, mind you, built on any negotiated policy outcome, or plan to change the country. It is, and always was, purely a deal struck to allow two political parties the entirely selfish pleasure of having a backside of their own in the big chair. We, the voters, are reduced to mere spectators as the Government of Ireland is passed around like a parcel at a ten-year old’s birthday party, just so everyone gets a go.
But what do these people, having engaged all the ceremony and celebration and pomp of power, actually want or desire to do with it? What’s it all for?
In fairness to the Green Party, they have an answer to that question. They were determined to cling on to their Ministries because for them, politics is about much more than a game of musical chairs. It’s about saving the world, by sucking all the little pleasures out of it one at a time. I joke, but only slightly.
But for the big two parties, this is politics. Seals of Office. Advisors. Ministerial Cars. Garda Outriders. Being applauded back to the constituency. Getting Government money for the local area. Going on the telly to say “the government has a plan”. Staying in office as long as possible. Ministries treated as a reward for long service. Retiring, either to sit on some boards, or – if your luck is really in, head over to Brussels. The country itself, as a whole, is an afterthought.
In many countries, people enjoy the sport of politics. But for Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael, the sport is all there is. Elections are more akin to county finals than events where the future of the country is at stake. For the media, this is the season of “political awards” – politician of the year; political moment of the year; backbencher of the year, and so on, and so, endlessly, drearily, on. Again, this is what these people – politicians and those who cover them – care about.
Politician of the year goes to An Taoiseach @MichealMartinTD
— Late Debate (@LatedebateRTE) December 15, 2022
The real running of the country is openly left to those actually interested in it who, increasingly, don’t need to get elected at all. The civil service. The lobby groups. The former journalists who always wanted a go at politics, and are now appointed advisors.
If you wanted to explain the rise of Sinn Féin, and the relative decline of Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael, I would say this whole phenomenon is the main reason. These are not people who, for example, are genuinely interested in fixing housing. They do not believe it is their job to fix housing. They believe it is their job to have a plan to fix housing. That plan can come from anywhere, really, so long as it can be waved on television, and so long as it has some targets that can be cited in an interview.
But they do not really believe in the plan themselves. They do not especially care if the plan works, because the purpose of the plan is to exist, and be waved, and nothing more. The targets in the plan, ideally, will only be due to be met long after the politician has moved on.
What they care about is what we saw on Saturday. If you want to fill seats in the Dáil, have a cabinet reshuffle. If you want to get journalists out of bed, start some rumours about people getting jobs. If you want to see what Irish politics is really about, then there it was, on full display.
It’s the dictatorship of the far-dreary. And it’s why I for one didn’t watch a second of it – wake me up when we have some real politics, instead of this farce.