Labour’s manifesto launch in the Aviva Stadium yesterday had many distractions, not least for an only-human Joan Burton
WHATEVER ABOUT the election, Labour is winning the battle of the backdrops.
Last week, the party set out its election stall in the impressive setting of the Guinness Gravity Bar – its commanding views over Dublin city provided a stunning setting for the publicity shots.
Yesterday, they went one better for their manifesto launch.
The location, high up in the Aviva Stadium, provided an equally inspiring venue, but it came with an unexpected sporting bonus that had Labour’s spin doctors ecstatic.
As Eamon Gilmore, Joan Burton and Brendan Howlin stood in front of a glass wall, the hallowed Lansdowne turf beckoned thrillingly below.
But it got better. The Ireland rugby team – they play France tomorrow – was training on the pitch.
Where to look? “Today, we are publishing our manifesto for the direction Labour wants our country to take,” said Eamon. “Ireland is a great country, and I believe, with every fibre of my being, that our best days are yet to come.” Brian O’Driscoll was removing his tracksuit bottoms. Donncha O’Callaghan was doing warm-up exercises.
Joan’s attention appeared to be wandering from her leader. Instead of fixing him with the requisite Nancy Reagan gaze, she kept sneaking glances out the window. “This is the time,” quivered Eamon. Up went Jamie Heaslip in the line-out.
The rugby people got very concerned before the launch began. An official was dispatched to the third level to have a word with photographers and camera crews. The IRFU had no problem with them filming shots of the players, but requested they show none of the moves being tried out for the big match.
And then there was Hervé Amoric, France 24’s man in Dublin. He was seen talking on his phone “in urgent French” while the lads were doing their thing. Hervé was only discussing the general election, but the patriotic Labour boys fretted.
You can never be too careful.
Brendan Howlin addressed the issue of tax. Joan looked a bit distracted. Advisers kept finding excuses to potter in the vicinity of the glass. Eamon took over. “There is a big black hole in the figures published by Fine Gael.” Was that Peter Stringer nipping across in the far corner? He’s back in the squad. Plug that black hole, O’Connell, er, Noonan.
Joan Burton joined the line-out. She was amused at something she heard Brian Lenihan say on radio. “He referred to himself as one of the ‘magnificent seven’,” said Labour’s finance spokeswoman, explaining that Lenihan had been referring to the remaining cabinet ministers. That got a laugh.
There were balls flying everywhere. “Will you take that one, Brendan?” “That’s one for you, Joan.” “I’ll take that one.”
Labour insists its policy on the bank bailout is not to walk away from the EU-IMF agreement. “We are not talking default. We are talking renegotiation,” stressed Gilmore, adding that since they suggested taking this course, other parties “have entered the renegotiation space”. The lads converged, chasing a garryowen. Hervé got in with a question about the game, exuding Gallic confidence.
“I have absolutely no doubt at all that Ireland will win very convincingly. . . as you know, we have a song called Ireland’s Call and on February 25th, this day two weeks, it literally will be Ireland’s call. And I hope that on that day Ireland will call for Labour,” declared Gilmore, delighted to have been asked and going for the three points.
Then everyone piled out to the stand for a photograph. “I’ve never been here before in my life – this is my first and only time,” harrumphed Emmet Stagg, indicating a solid working-class aversion to rugby. Just as well he isn’t standing in Limerick.
The signs on the Havelock Square end exhorted “Bring Back the Roar!” But Gilmore has left his roaring behind in the Dáil chamber. For the election, he is trying to ditch the Mr Angry image. But had they listened carefully enough, they might have heard faint strains of Enda Kenny, who, at that very moment, was below in Wexford and bellowing for Ireland on his soap box.
The Happy Gilmore vibe continued after lunch, when Eamon followed in the footsteps of Enda and went to Paddy Power’s betting office to place the traditional charity bet in aid of Guide Dogs Ireland. He arrived with more handlers than the two dogs there to meet him. The photographers formed a ruck.
“You see, I knew we could get a three-way debate,” smirked the Labour leader, with a golden Labrador on one side and a Labrador/German shepherd puppy on the other.
Which one is Enda? “The quiet one.” Eamon was on his knees. Frisky Micheál gave him a slap, following up swiftly with a head butt. Enda picked a spot on the wall and stared at it, saying nothing. (Micheál was a hefty pup called Hector and Enda was eight-month-old Chenna.) There was a big difference between Kenny’s performance at the same gig last week and Gilmore’s approach yesterday. Enda hammed it up for the cameras, dancing with a goldendoodle, cradling a big puppy in his arms and pretending to place a bet with another.
Not so with Eamon, who knelt beside the dogs, looking slightly embarrassed. Hector, all gangly legs and puppy fat, was scooped up by his proud owner in preparation for the handover. But Eamon stayed on his knees until Hector nearly fell on top of him.
“He is not going to pick up a dog,” said a senior adviser.
In fairness to deputy Gilmore, he was wearing a new navy suit and red tie and it’ll have to do him for at least the next four years (like the last one).
The photographers begged as Chenna/Enda sat in a huff and Hector/Micheál belted him with his oversized paws and rolled around the carpet.
Finally, Micheál got bored and went off to eat a betting slip. What’s the point? He’ll be in opposition anyway. Eamon stood and tried to get Enda’s attention by force feeding him a biscuit.
He’ll have to do a bit more of that in the coming weeks. The rift between Fine Gael and Labour is turning sulphurous.
The Greens’ manifesto launch around the corner was much less fraught. They showed a DVD of a man patting trees in a forest and a woman talking about how she got her house insulated.
“We believe that a Green voice in the Irish parliament is essential to hold others to account,” said party leader John Gormley. “Dáil Éireann is a failed political entity.” They sound bruised after their experience in coalition. Eamon Ryan said they “spent 3½ years fighting the system” and now “have to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves down and fight an election”. They did everything they could when in government with Fianna Fáil, said Gormley. “It was a baptism of fire and brimstone.” Lie down with dogs . . .
“
Hervé Amoric, France 24’s man in Dublin, was seen talking on his phone ‘in urgent French’ while the rugby lads were doing their thing. The patriotic Labour boys fretted. You can never be too careful
