WE KNEW the turbulence of the last week had taken its toll on the Taoiseach, but when we inquired about his whereabouts the answer sent us back on our heels.
“He’s above in Grangegorman.” Merciful hour. What next? Armed with a bottle of Lucozade and a bunch of seedless grapes, we hotfooted it to The ‘Gorman – once upon a time a forbidding old mental institution deeply feared in the folk memory of Dubliners.
Politics is a rough game.
Bertie Ahern got there before us. The former taoiseach had his best bedside manner on for the occasion. (As if Biffo hasn’t suffered enough.) It would have been churlish not to canvass his opinion on the current turmoil within Fianna Fáil.
“I don’t think there’s any ongoing controversy. I mean, I think the . . . ah, you know, a bit of a storm in a teacup” responded Bertie, admirably restrained in his choice of drinking vessel.
Surprisingly, he didn’t pin the blame on the Lehman Brothers.
Instead, he pronounced on the economic crisis.
“Fairly difficult issues ahead . . . to satisfy the markets, reading between the lines, I don’t think you have to be a former taoiseach to work it out: clearly it’s going to be a very tough budget.
“The international markets and Europe are going to have to be satisfied we’re keeping on top of it and that’s a big challenge . . .” Unfortunately, Bertie was never found wanting when it came to satisfying the markets, and he would know better than most that “sideshows are just not important”.
Not that they ever understood this in the Mahon tribunal.
Communication, say Cowen’s supporters and detractors, lies at the root of his difficulties. Bertie was uniquely gifted in this regard. Unlike the current incumbent, incoherence was his friend.
Like a talented fisherman, he instinctively knew the right time to throw out a line. He did it again yesterday. How come he never had such trouble in the parliamentary party ranks in his time? The Bert leaned forward. Wearing a conspiratorial grin, he gently reeled them in: “Aaah well, I was the most devious, cunning of them all . . .” Classic.
You’d nearly forget we’re sliding to oblivion and he helped to push.
Brian Cowen was last to arrive, after three of his Ministers – Coughlan, Harney and Dempsey – rolled up in a Teutonic wave of executive Volvos (Vorsprung Durch State Cars).
Taoisigh past and present greeted each other. There was a manly slap on the shoulder from Biffo to Bertie, who reciprocated with a manly wallop of his own.
They went inside for the launch of a major new development on the Grangegorman site in the north inner city, an “urban quarter with an open future”.
Brian Cowen delivered a long speech, never once uttering the phrase “going forward” or broaching the topic of “spending envelopes”. In fact, he hardly looked at his notes as he extolled the virtues of this impressive project, speaking of the need “to think creatively and imaginatively and come forward with ideas that are not just pie in the sky”.
It was almost as if he was addressing a chamber of commerce dinner, as he told the room “it is important that we retain our sense of ambition for the country”.
His arm actions were a bit alarming as he avoided his default mode – slouching with hands in pockets. It was all expansive sweeps and hand rolling, punctuated by contemplative steepling of the fingers in the way of senior television reporters.
After his big shock in Galway, it seems the media handlers might be getting through to him.
The big HSE poster to one side of the platform was a little disconcerting, though. Its main image featured a young boy with one of those nasal decongestive strips plastered across his nose.
It was interesting to hear both Brian Cowen and Mary Coughlan welcome the “Iar-Taoiseach” at the start of their speeches. Bertie had floated that title for himself after he left office. He mentioned it during an interview at Listowel races a couple of years ago, when he also said that if he had any money, the smart thing to do would be buy shares in the main banks. The idea sank like a lead balloon, rather like the shares.
But it’s been resurrected by the Taoiseach and Tánaiste (perhaps they were telling him there’s no way back.) When the formalities were concluded, Cowen went to inspect a model of the new campus. He was joined for the photos by a DIT student, who asked him a question. Those standing nearest laughed, but it was noisy, so people asked what she had said to him.
“Where’s the bar?” repeated Biffo helpfully, whereupon everyone fell about the place.
He was in fighting form yesterday. The cough is gone.
So we drank his Lucozade and ate the grapes.
The Grangegorman info pack included a souvenir memory stick.
A special gift for local TD Bertie, no doubt.
