Vincent Browne asks the same question every time we meet. Without fail, he asks whether I have kept a daily diary of political life. He reminds me that in politics the crises of yesterday are quickly forgotten due to the demands of today. Vincent occasionally suggests there may be value in such diaries. There is normally a glint in his eye when this suggestion is made. The glint that sends a shiver down the spine of any politician.
My answer always is the same. I have detailed notes of political life, arranged in stacks of notebooks. When considering their use and leaving aside the basic issue of legibility, more serious considerations matter. Matters of confidence, legal obligations as an office holder; all these concerns will result in my notes staying out of the public eye.
In Bed with the Blueshirts demonstrates why political memoirs are published and why they are enjoyed but reaffirms my decision not to trouble any reader with mine.
The prologue is teasing. It recounts a cabinet meeting in 2016, early in the new government, debating an opposition motion in the Dáil on neutrality. These pages capture the tension and the eventual resolution accurately. I know, I was there.
This leads to the issue of confidentiality. I wish cabinet deliberations remained unreported. Private discussions leads to better decisions. However, the disclosure in this book is no different to what is available through our media every day. Indeed, the level of revelation is surprisingly low.
The quick introductory pace ebbs with the chapter on the foundation of the Independent Alliance, the group of (not) like-minded politicians corralled by the ever cheerful author. Efforts to persuade Independent politicians to become Alliance election candidates might not be of interest to many. The positive qualities of each potential or actual candidate are well noted.
This is reflective of the general tone. Shane Ross is mostly kind to his governing colleagues. Tropes about Fine Gael are repeated, but he is complimentary about most of us as individuals. The harshest words are reserved for Independent politicians with whom he clashed on road safety legislation.
A puzzling omission is the two major Fine Gael figures in these pages, Enda Kenny and Leo Varadkar. Discussions and difficult meetings are described but the author offers little insight into their leadership or personalities. Throughout these pages, taoisigh are like ghosts in the government machine, ever present but lacking clear definition.
It is not just personalities that are absent. National challenges and changes, from Brexit to the referendum on the Eighth Amendment, consumed the last government. These were important moments for it and our country. Most are absent.
Such consistency is lacking in the brazenness of the chapter on Stepaside Garda station
The chapters on Ross’s difficulties in government, on the various mishaps that threaten all ministers, are very entertaining. The author makes full use of his literary skills and, to his credit, does not spare himself from criticism. When writing of his thirst to be associated with Katie Taylor and the lampooning that followed, he concludes that “Never before in the history of political public relations stunts has an Irish politician been battered by a bigger boomerang. It was totally self-inflicted…It was not my finest hour.”
Such consistency is lacking in the brazenness of the chapter on Stepaside Garda station – Pork Barrel Politics. Ross excoriated ministerial focus on constituency delivery while in 0pposition. Such concerns dissipated in office. When this building is reopened he writes: “If that is pork barrel politics, long may it continue”. This conclusion speak for itself.
Less comic are the chapters on sports governance, judicial reform and road safety legislation. Life in government mostly centres on the pursuit of objectives bounded by the pressure of public opinion, the constraints of finite resources and the parameters of law. So power is created by process.
Readers looking for tales of a revolutionary subversion will be disappointed. But what is pedestrian in government is mostly effective. Those interested in how government actually works might be pleasantly surprised.
This is most evident in the chapter on road safety. Ross stubbornly and skilfully made important changes in road traffic law. Tensions within government and the political self-interest of some opponents are well evoked. Independent politicians who were personally close viciously turned on him. He concludes that “The 2017 Road Traffic Bill seems to have fractured more friendships than any other piece of legislation seen in the Houses of the Oireachtas in recent years”.
Ross is a longstanding critic of the 'mandarins', clear when he writes that he is 'aware of a strong civil servant mafia that had a life of its own'
The chapters on sports governance, from the Olympic movement to the Football Association of Ireland, are written with flair. Meetings always seem to be dramatic, the pressure always intense. The difficulties of dealing with such challenges as a minister are, unsurprisingly, accurately portrayed.
Crucial to the discharge of duties are civil servants. Their expertise is critical to the operation of government. Of course they make mistakes and of course their views sometimes strongly differ from elected representatives. Ross is a longstanding critic of the “mandarins”, clear when he writes that he is “aware of a strong civil servant mafia that had a life of its own, a power base for senior mandarins who swapped information to control their ministers”.
Naming individual civil servants is not unusual in political memoirs. Publishing correspondence between the minister and his officials, and providing specific information about issues between the author and named civil servants, is an unwelcome precedent.
Ross is correct to criticise the very small number within their ranks who were anonymously critical of him. But the conclusion is still emphatic: “I have rarely met a more talented group of people than those in the top posts at the Department of Transport, Tourism and Sport”. Whether the maverick was captured or convinced is a matter for readers.
I frequently appear in this book. This is an unusual sensation as a reader and a conundrum as an amateur but committed reviewer of books. So I conclude on the merits and demerits of this work, not on the performance of a fellow minister.
In Bed with the Blueshirts is a solid insight into life as a member of government. It misses the broader thrust of national affairs, but that can be the consequence of the breadth of ministerial responsibility. The intrigue is low, the revelations fewer.
This may disappoint the author; it could satisfy a surprised reader.
Paschal Donohoe is the Minister for Finance
