DURING THE boom, it was not unknown for old socialists to wax nostalgic into their pints and long for the good old days of fiery speechifying and the monster protest march.
They would reminisce about campaigns past, affectionately recalling career highlights, and in voices tinged with sorrow, they agreed young people today are useless – too cosseted to take to the streets. Not like in their day.
This attitude still prevailed 13 months ago, when the furious pensioners of Ireland rose up and marched on Dáil Éireann in a protest over the provision of free medical cards.
“Maybe this is what the revolution looks like,” one nervous young TD was reported to have said as he watched the angry scenes from the safety of the Leinster House precincts. Rattled Government backbenchers feared the worst, while former student radicals on the Opposition side smiled indulgently as they remembered the street politics of old.
There was an embarrassing climbdown on the issue. The danger passed, but the storm clouds didn’t. Even the old socialists are having to adjust their rose-tinted designer spectacles. Things are very serious now.
Yesterday saw another big march through Dublin to the gates of Leinster House. Needless to say, there wasn’t a Government politician in sight, save for the lone Senator delegated to accept the letter of protest. The Labour Party TDs who turned out to watch weren’t swapping anecdotes during this protest.
Representatives from the newly formed Frontline Services Alliance were the ones on the march this time. Gardaí, ambulance crews, firefighters, prison officers, nurses. They are angry and say they will not accept any further cuts to their wages and allowances.
There was fighting talk from their union leaders when the 3,000 protesters reached their destination. They were joined on the platform by Siptu president Jack O’Connor, who saluted the marchers as the people “making the difference between a civilised society and barbarianism”.
He said the Government would have to be forced to take on the “5 per cent who own 40 per cent of the wealth of this country [who] have decided that they are not going to make any contribution to the resolution of the enormous problems with which we are all faced”.
“They are determined about that and we have to make it clear to them that we are equally determined that they will make a contribution whether they like it or not.” He threw in a reference to “trophy homes” for good measure.
Des Kavanagh, chairman of the alliance, addressed his words to the “persecuted public servants of Ireland”. To cheers, he declared: “You are easy to represent, you are a pleasure to defend, but I say it to Government, you will be hard to fight. Be advised Government, don’t go there.” The hardline attitude from the platform came with thinly veiled threats of further, more damaging action. “Target the wealthy and get off our backs” was the message.
What price the work of an ambulance crew at a traffic accident at 3am, asked Kavanagh.
But there is a price. That’s the problem. The march was very well organised, aimed at getting across the work done for the community by frontline staff over the years – no Civil Service pen pushers here.
An ancient fire tender and an old Ford Escort Garda patrol car trundled along at the head of the protest, with nurses dressed in old-style uniforms in the front row. Mary Delaney, who nurses at St Luke’s Hospital in Kilkenny, wore a Florence Nightingale costume, while her 10-year-old son DJ was dressed in his interpretation of an old style policeman’s uniform.
“We’re already down by €300, if we’re cut anymore the house is on the line. My husband is a chef and working reduced hours, while I’m job sharing. I want to go back full-time, but I can’t because of the moratorium on jobs,” said Mary. The ambulance workers carried a rubber skeleton on a stretcher. “He was fine when we brought him into AE, but he wasted away waiting for a bed,” said Des Wade from St James’s Hospital. A father of three children under six, he is worried about making ends meet while paying off his mortgage.
As in the most recent marches, the purely public sector nature of the protest was striking. Had it not been for a large contingent of student nurses from Trinity College cheering from the sidelines on O’Connell Street, the march would have taken place in a quiet atmosphere of indifference.
“We’re all going to Australia next year because there’s no jobs,” said class rep Oliver Allen from Ballymun. “There’s about 100 of us here and it’s great that everyone feels strongly enough to turn out,” added school convenor Linda Coughlan from Drumcondra.
There was a potential flashpoint on Molesworth Street when Eoghan Harris appeared on the pavement as the Garda members went past. But while they shot dirty looks at Harris, who has been highly critical of the public service campaign, not a word was shouted in anger.
“I’m very impressed by their discipline,” remarked Eoghan. “This crowd – their self-respect and discipline is so strong they would never let themselves down.”
After the speeches, the union leaders went to the gates of Leinster House to hand in their letter to the Minister for Finance. Senator Terry Leyden was sent out to accept it – he was elected to the Seanad on the labour panel, nominated by professional bodies, including the Garda Representative Association.
The Leinster House plinth was eerily quiet. When the crowd dispersed, a Government backbencher wanted to know what the mood had been like. Had there been much support from the general public? Not that we noticed. He shrugged – it was of little comfort. By the time next month’s Budget is delivered, he reckons the public/private divide will have vanished.
The cuts will not discriminate. The numbers marching will swell.
“What are we supposed to do?” he asked. “I fear there’ll be civil unrest. I really do.” Even the old socialists know the days of nostalgia are gone. The pensioners were merely a diversion. It’s getting serious now.
