Albert, What’s The Matter?

The vibes, the vibes! When, last Friday afternoon, I twice walked down Grafton St in an hour and sighted Pádraig Flynn for the first time, I should have trusted my psychic sense of synchronicity. Was he just shopping with his wife in Brown Thomas or did he know of the witch’s potions being brewed around the Cabinet table? After all, what happens during the next month may very definitely affect the future plans of one P. Flynn.

For with one leap, Albert was free. Or free to engage in yet another typical Irish election, where all the other parties gang up to pillory a friendless Fianna Fáil. And as in ‘92, he’s chosen the juiciest issue for Fianna Fáil’s opponents. Sending Harry Whelehan to the High Court is, of course, the ideal way to win the votes of the young (and not-so-young) women of Ireland!

There are two faces of Fianna Fáil and the Irish voters know which one they prefer – the leading constitutional nationalist party on this island and arguably the only one that could have bartered the IRA ceasefire. But Albert Reynolds lacked the patience to let his gains from the peace process mature. Instead he unveiled the party’s other face, the Fianna Fáil of sleaze and primeval sexism. With Harry Whelehan, you don’t just get the Fr Smyth affair; he also carries the baggage of the X Case and the Beef Tribunal. It will be a brave Fianna Fáiler who’ll defend the Whelehan appointment before a panel of opposition women politicians on Questions And Answers.

It looked bad on Friday night; it looked even worse when the Sunday papers came through. Whelehan’s excuses for his inaction were unacceptable. His office’s estimate that Fr Smyth would not re-offend was ridiculous. And the priest exiled to a hospital in Kerry, the bailiwick of Dick Spring!

A paragraph from Joe Joyce’s report in the Sunday Tribune was even more damning. Whelehan refused to accept any comparability between the X and Fr Smyth cases. Joyce wrote: “Mr Whelehan likened the difference between the X case and the Smyth case to the difference between an injunction to prevent somebody from immediately knocking down a building and someone applying to knock down a building as part of a re-development.”

Obviously, Harry Whelehan is an unreconstructed Law Library chauvinist; for him, all law is property. The women of Ireland will not be mocked. Already I can see Sinéad O’Connor standing against Albert Reynolds in Longford-Roscommon – and even winning.

(In passing, the death of Fr Liam Cosgrave added to the fever. In the public mind, the priest may yet become Albert’s own GUBU; to him what Malcolm McArthur was to Charles Haughey. Antique institutions crumbling in unison; Catholic Church scandals don’t help Fianna Fáil.)

But why did Reynolds press ahead? One view is that he is still high on the improbability of the peace process and actually believes his Longford courtiers’ propaganda that he is the greatest God-like Irish leader since Wolfe Tone or even Brian Ború. But the receipt of honourary Doctor of Laws degrees from minor colonial universities does not make one a constitutional expert.

On Radio 1’s Saturday Line, the Chief Whip, Noel Dempsey, advanced another reason. Albert Reynolds, he said, had given his word to Whelehan and once his word was given, he would always deliver as a man of honour. But Dempsey forgot one point – that promise can only be given by the collective Government not the singular self of Albert Reynolds. There may be a precedent that Attorney-Generals get promoted to the bench; that doesn’t necessarily mean they can cherry-pick. Besides, Whelehan was first appointed by Charles Haughey. Did he make the promise or was it made by Reynolds when he became Taoiseach?

Furthermore Reynolds was still in coalition with Desmond O’Malley. Did he inform the PD leader? And later when negotiations began with Labour for the present government, was Dick Spring informed? I strongly suspect the answer to both questions is No.

But Reynolds didn’t just ride roughshod over Labour, he may have also bounced his own Fianna Fáil colleagues. The night before the fateful Friday cabinet meeting, Reynolds showed the Whelehan explanation to Dick Spring who, after initial opposition from Reynolds, reported it to his Labour colleagues.

But the other Fianna Fáil ministers may have had little or no prior knowledge of the document, and come cold to Cabinet, vulnerable to manipulation by Reynolds to show a false solidarity with him in a stand-off with Labour.

A further point. Charlie McCreevy, the one Fianna Fáil minister with the wit and guts to call a halt to Reynolds’ gallop, was absent on a trade mission to South Africa. Later, on Sunday lunchtime radio, Brian Cowen sounded uncharacteristically sheepish when called to defend Reynolds.

Of course, there may be no election. I doubt if Labour will back down but John Bruton’s dream of a Rainbow Coalition could be made flesh. But somehow I doubt it. And not necessarily because President Robinson will disallow it and send this Dáil packing. Rather, I suspect Fine Gael will play hardball and prefer an election in the hope of improving their weak bargaining position.

As usual, the media has lavished attention on Labour’s difficulties in the present crisis. They don’t seem to realise that Reynolds has also put his own party in deep doo-doo. He doesn’t seem to have learned from the last election provoked through his duel with Desmond O’Malley: Fianna Fáil invariably lose when they force an election on an ethics issue.

Smarter members of Fianna Fáil understood the advantages of letting this government serve its full term. For once, Fianna Fáil would have a real chance of transfers from another source. And since both parties would have been defending their mutual record over four or five years, Labour could not have joined the usual election bloodsports against Fianna Fáil. By insisting on Harry Whelehan’s appointment, however, Albert Reynolds has thrown away those strategic advantages. Fianna Fáil fights friendless yet again.

And for what gain? Fianna Fáil’s recent 50% poll rating is probably deceptive. Such figures never include the undecided voters who, in the mass, are undecided between the other anti-Fianna Fáil parties. In the real world, Fianna Fáil’s standing is probably in the low forties, facing yet another election they will fight on the defensive.

Besides, by-election losses have meant their seats have declined from 69 to 66. An election could see them losing even more and ultimately driven from government because Dick Spring can’t serve with Albert Reynolds and the other permutations don’t add up either mathematically or politically. As leader of the opposition with Fianna Fáil at a historical low of 60 or so seats, Albert Reynolds must resign or be eventually shafted.

And yet no Fianna Fáil deputy has yet said “boo” to the Reynolds goose. Partially, this is due to the Fianna Fáil tradition of never breaking ranks publicly. Those few Fianna Fáil deputies against Reynolds are from the disinherited Haughey faction and also long opposed to the Labour alliance which limits their influence.

But there may be another reason for the Fianna Fáil silence. When he came to power, Albert Reynolds showed himself a ruthless axeman when he sacked so many of Haughey’s ministers. Few Fianna Fáil deputies, whether in government or on the backbenches, wish to risk Reynold’s displeasure. Brian Cowen may be a bruiser but I doubt if he’ll stand up to his sponsor, Albert Reynolds. Possibly only Brian Lenihan, the original patron of the Fianna Fáil/Labour alliance, has the prestige to halt the dissolution of this government. Sadly however, bad health may not allow for any intervention on his part.

And what of Labour? Are they now also doomed to disaster? Not necessarily so; again the small print in the polls can give a different reading.

From 19% at the last election, Labour has declined to 12%. But this isn’t only double the miserable 6.4% the party gained in ‘87 after the break-up of the Fitzgerald coalition, it is also ahead of the 9.4% they gained in ‘89. Unlike its experiences with Fine Gael, Labour has not seen the collapse of its working class vote.

There are other reasons for Labour deputies to stiffen their resolve. Unlike Fianna Fáil, Labour’s standing improves through general election campaigns. Long-serving deputies also enjoy the advantages of incumbency. The party can reach 15% and 25 seats. The bonus deputies elected at the last election cannot be expected to relish the prospect but the very attainable prospect of 25 seats would be Labour’s best performance bar ‘92. That’s far superior to the catastrophes they experienced after each Fine Gael coalition.

There’s also another poll misreading which should encourage the Irish left if not Labour. In both the European election and the recent by-elections, Labour protest voters moved to the Greens and Democratic Left not Fine Gael and the Progressive Democrats. The Cork North Central by-election was great news for Democratic Left but not necessarily discouraging for Labour. Lisa O’Sullivan polled sufficiently well to regain the Labour seat at the next election.

In fact the Irish electorate has got more radical not more conservative. Fine Gael will gain by picking up stragglers from Fianna Fáil, the PD’s and that mythical Aylesbury Road Labour vote but it will not make massive advances. After the last election, the combined total of Labour, DL, Tony Gregory and the Greens’ Trevor Sargent was 39 seats. A ‘94 election may see that bloc as strong if not stronger, with Labour’s lost seats redistributed to the other two parties and radical independents.

And, of course, the Whelehan issue now plays for Labour. When Dick Spring’s opposition first emerged, it seemed an academic distraction, a Leinster House manoeuvre with no link to the real world outside the Dáil. But the Father Smyth affair transformed the terms in a manner every Irish voter can understand.

Reynolds’ error lies not so much in supporting Harry Whelehan but in insisting on his appointment with such rude insensitivity. Labour might have pulled back if there’d been an explanation as to why the Attorney-General’s office delayed extraditing the abusing cleric. None came and Fianna Fáil must either defuse the Labour ministers’ revolt or start any election campaign by giving answers. Was there complicity or just appalling mismanagement in the A.G.’s office?

Still, for argument’s sake, let’s accept there’s some rational and justifiable explanation for the delay. It still won’t help the perception of Fianna Fáil. What party and what party leader is so stupid to begin an election associated, unfairly or not, with child abuse?

Be certain too that the Beef Tribunal will now also re-emege as an issue to taint Fianna Fáil. Its candidates could be embarked on a campaign where they’ll be constantly denying they’re crooks or associated with child abuse.

The whole sad saga also plays against Fianna Fáil’s reputation for political horse-sense. They really should recall one story about Lyndon Johnson. He once called an election opponent a pig-fucker or somesuch. But, bleated a puzzled aide, he isn’t a pig-fucker. Sure, responded L.B.J., but let’s see him deny it. Do Fianna Fáil deputies really wish to be forced to run on that sort of platform?

Harry Whelehan obviously won’t help. He never explained, he never apologised, he never stood aside and he won’t do so now. Albert Reynolds may have been loyal to him but now the Taoiseach can stew in it. Harry Whelehan’s loyalty to Fianna Fáil obviously doesn’t include self-sacrifice.

A Sunday Tribune snap by Derek Spiers confirmed his obliviousness, as he incautiously let himself be photographed back from a spot of pheasant shooting. The shotgun at his side, the gundog in the back of the station wagon, the best tweed hat; far from sham squires was Fianna Fáil originally reared.

In the coming days, the party may yet realise how its own usual unswerving loyalty has been taken for granted. Labour’s argument is with Reynolds and Whelehan, not necessarily Fianna Fáil. Besides the peace initiative, this government’s achievements are real and ministers of both parties have worked cordially together.

Sometimes its standards have been casual but the alleged scandals have often been artificially manufactured by the media. Brian Cowen was stupid not corrupt and in the Irish Times of Saturday 12th, that veteran airline expert, Garret FitzGerald, implicitly sided with the government and chided his own Fine Gael party for their tantrums over the government jet.

Conventional wisdom has it that Reynolds used this extraordinary Friday cabinet meeting to stuff Labour in the wake of the Cork by-elections. But he also ambushed his own parliamentary party which was off the Dáil reservation and also campaigning there. No effort was made to convene the parliamentary party to consult them about Harry Whelehan after the disclosures about Fr Smyth.

After Fianna Fáil’s own losses in Cork, deputies might have shouted stop. They might have become even more queasy once the Taoiseach offered Whelehan’s report on the Fr Smyth affair to the Dáil on Tuesday. But Albert Reynolds gave them no chance. He forced through Whelehan’s appointment before any backbench Fianna Fáil opposition could emerge. Just why is Harry Whelehan so special that Albert Reynolds must damage his party, risk his own government, derail the peace process and even lay down his own political life?

It’s just possible though unlikely that the Fianna Fáil grassroots may rise up to save this fractured government. However Albert Reynolds’ impulsive and ineradicable appointment of Whelehan may have left it beyond saving. Even if he eats the most humoungous humble pie, it may not be enough.

I just can’t understand why Albert Reynolds is addicted to such a high-risk strategy, impatiently gambling all the gains from the I.R.A. ceasefire. Voters will look on in astonishment at a peacemaker who so blithely wrecks his own government and so endangers his own greatest political achievement, the peace process in which the people of the Republic – not to mention the North – have invested so much hope.

So Albert Reynolds has risked, if not destroyed, his own reputation as the good steward. People may judge that Albert Reynolds decided his ego counted more than the national interest. This is one occasion when Fianna Fáil deputies are best advised to blink.

But it may be too late.

If Harry Whelehan left the ship he sank, Fianna Fáil is now nailed to the Taoiseach’s mast. Unless, of course, he goes overboard . . .