After what was probably the most serious personal crisis of his political career, Leo Varadkar survived Tuesday evening’s interrogation in the Dáil, occasionally wilting under questioning from Opposition TDs but never crumbling completely.
He keeps the show on the road and survives – damaged and diminished in the eyes of his colleagues, and probably chastened somewhat. But the big “gotcha” didn’t materialise.
Much of the early interrogation by TDs, following a 20-minute statement by Varadkar, focused on new text and WhatsApp messages concerning the leak which were released online earlier. These were undoubtedly embarrassing. But despite what had been widely rumoured, they fell some way short of providing clear evidence that would have derailed Varadkar’s ability to tough it out.
They didn’t show any material benefit for Varadkar’s friend (“a friend, not a close friend”), they didn’t show he broke any law, and they didn’t show that he has lied about any of it in his explanations.
Error of judgment
Varadkar built his defence around a small number of key messages. He insisted his only motivation was to get the deal accepted by GPs. He explained he had nothing to gain. He distanced himself dramatically from Dr Maitiú Ó Tuathail, to whom he leaked the document and whose phone messages, both his own and those from Varadkar that he forwarded to others, formed much of the evidence against the Tánaiste. Finally, Varadkar repeatedly acknowledged his error of judgment and he apologised for it.
Many TDs sought to adopt a new, lawyerly style of interrogation, asking the Tánaiste short questions and allowing him to answer, rather than asking several questions wrapped up in lengthy speeches. This met with mixed success.
Sinn Féin deputy Pearse Doherty was one of those who made Varadkar look uncomfortable, poking holes in his defence that the then government was committed to keeping the National Association of General Practitioners (NAGP) – the group headed by his friend Ó Tuathail – informed throughout the process and his provision of the contract was part of that.
Pure ‘coincidence’
As Doherty pointed out, there was no engagement between the Department of Health and the NAGP. And despite Varadkar’s strenuous efforts to put distance between himself and Ó Tuathail, Doherty was successful in casting doubt on Varadkar’s claim that he was giving the contract to Ó Tuathail, the president of the NAGP, rather than Ó Tuathail, his friend.
Rise TD Paul Murphy made ground on the same subject. “Is it purely a coincidence that this friend and political supporter got the contract?” he asked. Varadkar avoided a direct reply. But Murphy had put his finger on it.
“I gave it to Maitiú Ó Tuathail because he was president of the NAGP not because he was my friend,” Varadkar said. He stuck to his guns; it didn’t make it convincing.
Varadkar has made bigger political mistakes than the leaking of the contract. His timing of the last general election and his pitch to the voters in that campaign were failures of political decision-making that – because of the subsequent pandemic (on the whole handled by him with some self-assurance and effectiveness) – were less examined than they might otherwise have been.
But the leak which gave rise to this controversy has unnerved some of Varadkar’s colleagues and officials in a way previous reverses haven’t. It speaks to his judgment and modus operandi in a way that is the subject of significant private concern in Government.
