Fed up with predictions?
Here’s a campaign slogan you can take to the bank: Election 2020 – An uncertain future to look forward to.
Just one extra word and Fine Gael’s catchline would have been remarkably prescient.
After a sheepish launch of its glaringly tepid general election slogan, even headquarters can’t have been surprised when “A future to look forward to” was greeted with burning indifference by an unimpressed public. But at least it served to set down a marker for an awkward and unconvincing campaign to come.
Suspiciously eager to #LookForward, the outgoing Government neglected to look back. But no worries, a disgruntled electorate mobilised to take up the slack, throwing a beady eye over its nine-year record.
In the weeks to come, the departing regime will wonder how it failed to see voters deserting in droves and how strategists didn’t cop Sinn Féin powering up through the centre to disrupt the usual pre-designated contest with Fianna Fáil.
To be fair, this development totally blindsided Fianna Fáil too, and Sinn Féin, kicking itself now for fielding a reduced number of candidates, didn’t see it coming either.
From early on the verdict was clear: FG and FF are two cheeks of the one arse
A future to look forward to? Based on the stuttering campaigns from all the main protagonists, you wouldn’t be brimming with confidence for what happens next.
A series of opinion polls in the opening weeks indicated Sinn Féin was making significant gains, but when an Irish Times/Ipsos MRBI poll pronounced that the Shinners were the most popular party in the country, with Fine Gael relegated to an unthinkable third place, it was the pandemonium moment of Election 2020.
How could this be? After the forever rule of Fianna Fáil or Fine Gael, it felt to some like a crime against nature; an upsetting of the natural order of things.
The shocking news precipitated a ferocious worrying of pearls in certain quarters, and clubbable gents who favour red trousers in their leisure time were suddenly sorry they never stayed with a darker fabric.
But to a significant number of citizens (precisely how many depends on the final result), it felt like a welcome change. Change was the word of this election even if the vox-popped and opinion-polled populace wasn’t exactly forthcoming on its precise nature. But all seemed adamant about one thing: they wanted a change, change for the sake of it, a case of any change will do.
The two main parties and their leaders responded to this emergency sea-change in attitude by taking a serious look at why previously loyal voters are feeling this way and implementing immediate positive steps to address this communications breakdown.
Actually, no. They didn’t. Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil continued on insulting each other and then began savaging Sinn Féin with a vengeance. Now they have to wait and see if their attempt to put the fear of God into middle Ireland over the Shinners has sufficiently worked.
There were high points and lowlights during the 25-day campaign and lots of winners and losers even before the boxes are opened. Here’s a selection:
Two cheeks of the one arse or two pearls in the one oyster? This question was only open to Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil and it was adjudicated upon by the public. From early on the verdict was clear: FG and FF are two cheeks of the one arse. That, it seems, is what a full-term confidence and supply arrangement delivers.
Forgotten TDs
A lowlight was the sad increase in the ranks of “the Disappeared”. These forgotten TDs vanished mysteriously from the frontbenches and backbenches of the three main parties, banned from the airwaves and media events for being controversial/unpopular/unpredictable/unpresentable/unintelligible/downright stupid/Minister for Housing/Minister for Health. Single or multiple combinations, it didn’t matter.
Jack Chambers escaped from his cot in Castleknock and made a show of himself on a TV debate in RTÉ
Missing, presumed dangerous, included almost all the Cabinet apart from the Taoiseach, Tánaiste, Paschal Donohoe, Richard Bruton, Heather Humphreys and junior minister Helen McEntee. Fianna Fáil leader Micheál Martin also had an embarrassment of embarrassments. Spokesman on Foreign Affairs Seán Haughey was chained to a radiator in Coolock; Éamon Ó Cuív was locked away in a darkened room in Spiddal; Barry Cowen was fitted with an electronic ankle bracelet which gave him an electric shock when he crossed the Offaly county boundary. Young Jack Chambers escaped from his cot in Castleknock and made a show of himself on a TV debate in RTÉ.
Sinn Féin showed great discipline. Apart from prime asset Mary Lou McDonald, the only two TDs allowed out on their own in public without permission were Eoin Ó Broin and Pearse Doherty, who also did most of the talking. Dessie Ellis was confined to barracks in Finglas for letting the compassionate mask slip in a WhatsApp rubbishing victims of the Republican movement who dared to speak out.
Please God they’ll all appear, safe and well, after the election.
It is generally agreed to have been one of the dirtiest election campaigns ever.
Fine Gael gets an award for the best use of social media. Its, er, creative team surpassed all the rest. There was the spoof Benny Hill-style chase around the dustbins at the back of party headquarters with staffers wearing masks of the faces of the Fianna Fáil disappeared.
Unfortunately, Dara Murphy is unable to collect his award because he has a new job in Europe and it's only massive
There was the one where all the Cabinet members were asked would they go into government with Sinn Féin. Recoiling in disgust, one after another they had their say: No! No way! Absolutely not! Never in a million years! It wasn’t long before doctored versions appeared with new questions: Do you ever tell the truth? Will you take a pay cut? Do you like pineapple on your pizza?
And then there was poor Paschal standing near Heuston Station on his little soapbox, shouting at passing Luas trams because no people were listening except one sinister-looking figure in a black jacket whose face we never saw.
A special Invisible Influencer award goes to Dara Murphy. Unfortunately, Dara is unable to collect his award because he has a new job in Europe and it’s only massive. We encountered quite a few people muttering from the sidelines about Dara when the Taoiseach passed by on walkabouts. The former TD from Cork spent the best part of two years working full time with Fine Gael’s sister party in Europe while still an Oireachtas member, doing almost zero parliamentary work and rarely attending on sitting days. But because he technically complied with the rules by registering a presence in Leinster House for a required number of days, he was able to claim a TD’s full whack of salary and expenses.
No rules were broken, but Murphy’s brass neck and the Taoiseach’s wishy-washy response thoroughly annoyed an awful lot of people in the immediate run-up to the election.
Sullen passengers
Favourite story from the canvassing beat: It was just after 7am on a workday morning in a commuter town in Leinster. It was dark, damp and very cold. A queue of sullen passengers waited to board the bus to Dublin. Along came a couple of chirpy canvassers for the Green Party in their high-vis jackets. People were in no mood to engage. Most refused leaflets. The canvassers were obviously losing heart. A woman’s voice rose from back of the queue – a querulous tone.
“Do you not care about the future of our planet?”
“Not at seven o’f**king clock in the morning, no.”
In the final week, when the big debate finally happened and Sinn Féin’s Mary Lou McDonald was granted her wish and a place on stage with Leo Varadkar and Micheál Martin, she didn’t get things all her own way. In particular, she stumbled badly when attempting to deal with the fallout from Sinn Féin’s handling of the circumstances surrounding the brutal murder of Paul Quinn. She was playing senior camogie now.
Would this affect the momentum building around Sinn Féin? A seasoned political observer in Leinster House gave us his interesting take on Mary Lou’s much-awaited and scrutinised performance as the the Quinn controversy dominated the national news agenda. “I knew she was going to be put under a lot of pressure. But the Sinn Féin surge is a strong one. Looking at where the support is coming from, I think Mary Lou had enough leeway to crash the car, and once she didn’t write it off entirely, she’d be grand. And she didn’t.”
Her friend clearly thought Micheál Martin was mad - she mistook him for a crisp salesman
Shopper of the Campaign: Leo Varadkar was so anxious to show the farming community that he has nothing against eating meat he spent the best part of four weeks buying up sausages and burgers, steaks and chops. He visited so many butcher shops his aftershave was called FX Buckley. We can only hope somebody remembered to clear it all out of the BMW’s boot.
Awful moment
The most excruciatingly awful moment of Election 2020 was bagged by Fine Gael Dublin Bay North candidate Catherine Noone, who tried to make unnecessary excuses for the Taoiseach’s natural reserve and occasional social awkwardness by inexplicably informing a constituent on the doorstep that he is “autistic”. What on earth was she thinking? And then, to try to salvage the situation, she made it a thousand times worse by saying people sometimes just say the wrong thing, like “the N-word”.
Best moment in a supermarket: The leader of Fianna Fáil accosting shoppers in Tesco in Phibsborough, Dublin and trying to engage a woman in conversation about the brand of crisps she was perusing in the snacks aisle. Her friend clearly thought Micheál Martin was mad, but she gave him credit for trying to promote his business. She mistook Micheál for a crisp salesman.
Best quip: Fine Gael’s Noel Rock in Omni Park shopping centre when a woman tells the Taoiseach: “You’re much taller and slimmer in person”. And Noel remarks brightly: “People say I’m much smaller and fatter in person.”
Most pompous take on an election slogan: Micheál Martin on Fianna Fail’s “An Ireland for All”, which they dug up from the last general election. “It’s not a slogan. It’s a philosophy.”
Most spectacular injury: Independent candidate and Minister for Transport, Tourism and Sport Shane “Winston Churchtown” Ross, who tripped over a kerb in Marlay Park at the very beginning of the campaign and broke two fingers, dislocated another and split a fourth. He had to undergo surgery for four hours, but was back on the campaign trail the next day.
