Fianna Fail and Fine Gael Party Conferences
Gene Kerrigan visited two routine party functions and found the vote-getting machines well oiled.
Fianna Fail
Our annual day in County Longford to listen to the grassroots
There was no need for Louis McEntyre to stand up and tell the Convention the importance of running water. Louis McEntyre knew this.
"There is no need for me to stand up and tell the Convention the importance of running water", he said.
When he made this point Louis McEntyre was standing up at the microphone in the ballroom of the Longford Arms to tell the delegates to the Longford Fianna Fail County Convention the importance of running water.
Louis McEntyre is not as green as he's cabbage looking.
It was 7.50 pm and the Convention was nearing the end of its fifth and final hour and the scramble was on to get as much said as could be crammed into the little time remaining. People who had spent weeks preparing speeches in anticipation of this event were ill-disposed to the platform's pleas to refrain from speaking in order to allow the Minister to wind up.
And the Minister didn't really mind that, given the day that was in it. At the opening of the Convention Albert Reynolds had announced that this was "our annual day in County Longford to listen to the grass roots."
There were a couple of dozen motions on the agenda. These ranged from practical solicitations ("This Conven tion calls on the Government to site a District Veterinary and Livestock of{ice in Longford") to silly grovelling ("This Convention congratulates the Minister for Education on his achievements in maintaining and improving the Educational system over the past 12 months").
The idea of such Conventions is to let the local rank and file speak to the people whom they help to elevate. It also gives the cogs in the party machine an opportunity to go through their paces in public, thus demonstrating their value to the party, their proximity to power and the fact that they are people worth knowing in the community.
The event came complete with Special Guest Stars - Albert Reynolds, Minister for Communications – local boy made good; Sean Keegan, TD, local boy made not so good but passing fine; Ray McSharry, Minister for Agriculture; Sean Doherty, Minister of State at the Department of Justice; Paddy Lalor, Euro MP. The proceedings were chaired by Ned "The Couny" Reilly.
At the end of the table was Dr. Nicholas Dolan from Westmeath Fianna Fail, keeping an eye on the proceedings. From one year to the next the two county organisations virtually ignore each other - it is only at election time that they join together to fight the constituency of Longford-Westmeath.
This year's novelty for the punters was a video recording of the event, made by Derek Cobb, editor of the Longford News. The members can now spend the rest of the year reviewing highlights of the Convention and watching themselves on colour TV.
The Convention began that Sunday afternoon with a slam-bang introduction from Albert Reynolds ("this great organisation is part of the way of life in Ireland"), who passed the audience on to "the lovely Aine Kitt from Galway - the face that had endeared itself to the people of Ireland". Kitt smiled and coyly lowered her eyes. Her Speaking-By-Numbers contribution covered most of the angles:
*The Patriotic Bit: "Politics is all about being aware of your community and of your role in changing it".
*The Serious Bit: we must all become active "to negatise the radical and anarchistic element that one often finds in trade unions."
*The Joke: "Listening to Fine Gael you would imagine that we were all found under cabbage leaves after the 1977 General Election." (Pause; audience realises that something is expected of it; laughter.)
One of the backroom boys, Noel Hanlon, a wealthy local businessman, stood behind the rostrum throughout the convention, adjusting the microphone, leading the applause and leaning on the table the rest of the time. As Kitt paused at what seemed the end of her speech Hanlon's hands sprang apart and then rushed towards each other in what was to be the starting signal for a round of applause. The hands stopped, bare inches apart, as Kitt launched into a final couple of sentences in Irish.
Hanlon had forgotten The Irish Bit.
Such party functions have layers to them, different kinds of needs to be catered for. Those who want to pat Albert on the back; those who want to be patted on the back by Albert; those who want to be seen having their back 'patted by Albert. And there are others who don't reckon pats at all - the handshake is the thing. These little rituals take place, before, after and during the Convention.
Another kind of need is catered for by providing Ray McSharry to listen to the problems of the Louis McEntyres - to listen attentively even if he can't give a specific promise.
But first there are the kids. The first part of the Convention is devoted to what everyone refers to as The Youth - as in, "We must listen sincerely to what The Youth are saying". And the first speaker is a young man wearing a football scarf and smoked glasses, Dermot Walsh, who is worried about drugs.
"Marijuana," said Dermot, "a product of the cannabis plant. Smoking it can make five minutes seem like an hour. Sounds and colours are seen intensified." Ignoring some muted laughter and mutterings of "sounds great", Dermot plodded on with his description of drugs and their effects.
"Not one bank, post office or garage would be safe if everyone here was on drugs," he warned the audience, which included several people who own or control most of the banks, post offices and garages within driving distance. Frank Cluskey had been complaining, complained Dermot. And what had he been complaining about? "One, the economy. Two, don't vote Fianna Fail. He said nothing about The Youth! He said nothing about drugs! Why? 'Cos he's depending on junkie's votes to get in!"
The audience applauded, the guest stars applauded and Sean Doherty replied that neither he nor anybody else at the Department of Justice had one good thing to say about the same drugs.
The loudest applause was reserved for Anne Pakenham, a young woman who matched Dermot's revulsion at drugs with a contempt for the English and American programmes which have practically taken over RTE. "Things like Coronation Street and that ridiculous Kenny Everett Show!" There was a mild revolt down the back among some people who wanted to know what was wrong with Kenny Everett.
"And Hawaii Five-O," said Anne through pursed lips, "who wants to see that rubbish? I think they've a terrible nerve!"
As she ploughed through the speech, sincerity carved on her face, the Guest Stars on stage howled with laughter, applauded, stamped their feet and shouted that it was great stuff. The motion also called for the showing of the tricolour on RTE when the national anthem is being played, instead of the nice piece of photography which is now used. The Stars and the audience howled approval and Albert said that while it wasn't up to him he would take the views back to Dublin to the RTE Authority and he was sure that the flag would indeed be returned to its rightful place.
The next day, Albert went to Dublin and signed the approval for another year of Section 31 of the Broadcasting Act, which censors RTE.
It was getting on towards 5 pm before the Special Guest Star made her entrance. The Youth had left and the senior Convention was in full swing when Ned "The County" Reilly announced that "that girl with that name that is revered in this country has now arrived and will be escorted to the rostrum by the one and only Michael Doherty!"
And Mickey "Mr. Fianna Fail In Longford" Doherty, his face aglow, had the honour of walking down through the hall with Sile de Valera. The audience stood, cheered, stamped. Sile, making her fur clad and stately way towards the stage like a plump Barbara Streisand coming out for a curtain call, smiled and smiled. And spoke. "We all have our very special Fianna Fail faith, as it were, in which we all believe."
She told a long, complicated joke about the European Parliament, Ian Paisley, Jacques Chirac and an insult about "papist pigs" and though it went on forever and there didn't seem to be any punchline, most people laughed when she finished, if only be. cause she started by announcing that this was, indeed, a joke. And most of the speech seemed to be addressed to The Youth, as if she wasn't aware that that part of the Convention was long over.
But none of that mattered. The hall was full, the aisles and the alcoves were full, the cheers were loud. And if the average attendance at the Convention . throughout the day was about 500 there was almost twice that present to hear Sileo And when she promised that, "Once again, yes, once again we will be victorious in another general election," the crowd erupted and the ancient cry was raised, "Up Dev!"
All of which explains why Louis McEntyre wasn't going to pushed out of having his say as the final minutes ticked away. There must be a time for The Youth to expound on the importance of tricolours on TV; and for national party luminaries like Aine Kitt to show that they care; and for local party luminaries like Mickey Doherty and Noel Hanlon to grab a little limelight; and for Special Guest . Stars to be wheeled on; and for the locals to get within handshake range of their TDs; and for serious people like Louis to have their say.
That's what holds it all together. In a way, Dermot and Anne and Mickey and Louis and their like are the tiny fibres of the roots of party political power. They have to be constantly watered.
Albert rounded things off with a rip-roaring run through the issues that had been raised - funny, serious, capable - a man to be relied on. He had just come back from a holiday and over the next two months would visit
every Cumann in the constituency, tightening things up. Because the way things are today you can never be sure when you're going to need that vote gathering machine at short notice.
Fine Gael
Thursday night fever in Borrisoleigh
Borrisoleigh is just a few miles from just about any place that matters in North Tipperary. And it has a big hall, the Marian Hall. So, if you're gathering your forces in that part of the world Borrisoleigh is a good place to do it.
Which is why you had to look long and carefully that Thursday night to find a stretch of kerb that wasn't accommodating a length of motor car. The Fine Gael faithful from all over the north of the county had beaten a path to Borrisoleigh to see what kind of political mousetrap could be fashioned to catch the Dail seat that get away in 1977.
Inside the hall you would have to go to some pains to catch a glimpse of the floor. The three hundred seats were filled, the aisles were blocked, the doorway jammed - and outside a wriggling knot of humanity tried to compress and insert itself between the crushed elbows and hips of the luckier ones packing the doorway.
An announcement: "I want to ask those who are not delegates to leave their seats and move to the back of the hall and stand. . . " a tailing off and then a giggle, " . . . on top of each other, I think". The announcer turned away from the microphone. "May as well be talking to the wall."
There is excitement in Borrisoleigh this night and there is drama. Tomorrow or the next day there will be a couple of paragraphs in the national papers saying that at a selection convention the North Tipperary constituency delegates of Fine Gael have selected a candidate for the by-election necessitated by Michael O 'Kennedy's departure to be the EEC "Tanaiste" .
What the papers bare announcement cannot convey is the ironic circumstances of tonight's political showdown. Of the two young men contesting the nomination, the winner will take another step in a promising political career. The loser will almost certainly be knocked out of national politics.
Michael Lowry is from Holycross. David Moloney from Thurles. Closer than this you don't get. Holycross is a couple of miles down the road from Thurles - or vice versa, depending where you come from.
If Lowry had had the wit to be born in Nenagh or Moloney in Killenaule there would be no problem. Come the General Election they could both go forward under the Fine Gael flag. Candidates should, goes the theory, be from different ends of the constituency - that way each will get the local vote and the locals might even give a second preference to the stranger from way down the road there in Thurles. The ticket must be geographically balanced.
But if two people stood from the same area - well, the locals up there in Nenagh and down in Killenaule, even the ones you'd be half way depending on, they might prefer a local Fianna Failer to a stranger from the depths of Thurles.
Many things influence the decision of a voter. The subtleties and the downright lies of economic manifestos, bluffs and counter bluffs of Northern policy and the matter of what the grandfather thought of Mick Collins and Dev. But also, the not insignificant factors of the accessibility of the candidate, whether you were on nodding terms with his mother, and when he gets his hands on some bounty, is it over here he'll be coming with it or do his loyalties lie elsewhere in the county. The outcome of such deliberations may ultimately register as a "swing" on some pundit's Swingometer beyond up in Dublin.
Meanwhile, the Fine Gael ticket has to be balanced. The by-election for which the candidate is being selected may never be held. Neither Fine Gael nor Labour will be in a hurry to spend £20,000 or so on an election where the odds are against them, so they won't push Haughey to move the writ. If Fianna Fail win the by-election it will be another scalp on Haughey's belt going into a general election - but the Donegal scalp is still fresh. If they were to lose the by-election it would give Fine Gael a surge of morale for the General Election. If they manage to hold the seat with a decrease in their 1977 vote (the most likely outcome) it would also be seen as a setback.
So, tonight Fine Gael will choose a candidate who will run in the by-election if necessary but who will be part of the ticket for the General Election. Since there can only be one candidate from the Thurles-Holycross area, tonight's loser cannot in the foreseeable future run for the Dail for Fine Gael.
As the meeting was about to start, Garret FitzGerald came down from the stage to the third row to shake the hand of Tom Dunne, the Fine Gaeler who last held the seat in North Tipp. He insisted that Dunne sit beside him on the stage, a gesture brought a cheer from the crowd.
"My name is Sean Clancy, as a lot of you already know." The Michael Lowry build-up was underway. "I was born into Fine Gael and I'll probably die out of it," said Clancy, establishing his own credentials before unveiling those of his favourite. First, he assured the delegates, "Michael Lowry's capacity for work knows no bounds".
"And he's a man of the people. He's one of them - one of us, if you like. He has the gift to be able to come into this hall, walk up and talk at his ease to Garret FitzGerald or anybody else on this platform - and go back down to the back of the hall and talk to the least one of us, talk at his ease."
Olive Fogarty from the Thurles District Executive, Lowry's proposer, pointed out Lowry's crucial role as the organizer of the 300 Club Draw, the fact that he is a playing member of Holy-Cross GAA and a director of the Rent-An-Irish-Cottage Scheme.
"He has demonstrated his vote getting ability," said Fogarty. "It's been said that he has the common touch, that he has the ability to relate to all sections of the community. His skill as a salesman will not be a disadvantage."
It soon became clear that the Lowry strategy was to paint Moloney as a nice guy, a respected solicitor with a social conscience, well able to win the Fine Gael vote, but without the connections and personal popularity of Lowry. At the local elections Lowry had come from behind to win an extra council seat for Fine Gael. "If Fine Gael is serious about winning this seat," said Clancy. "It has to offer a candidate who can take not only the Fine Gael vote but the Fianna Fail and Labour vote as well."
David Moloney's proposer, May Quinn, fought back by emphasising Moloney's work in building up the local party after the 1977 election debacle. "There were 21 branches and 300 registered members and David hit the road with that most indefatigable of organizers, Abie Allen - now there are 49 branches and 1000 registered members."
There were mentions of Moloney's Senate victory in 1977, his role as director of elections then, his patient clinic work in Thurles, and the popularity locally of his family. But the main difference in style and approach was clearly that in the Moloney camp words like "indefatigable" came easily to the lips while the Lowry troops were more alert to the political benefits of being associated with the Rent An-Irish-Cottage Scheme.
"David is young and vigorous, with integrity and vision", said May Quinn. . "Garret. take note - he'd make grand material for a Minister!"
By the time the two competitors got to speak, their form was fairly well known. Now they had to prove they knew what to do with a microphone and that they wouldn't make a show of themselves on the back of a lorry after Mass during a campaign.
Lowry, all of 2 7 , and with the look of a salesman and a successful one, showed he knew the ropes. A round of applause for the proposers, a dig at Charlie Haughey, a few dead cert crowd pleasers (when a guy stands up on such an occasion and pauses after saying, "It's my sincere hope that Fine Gael will be given an opportunity to form a government", the people will not start booing - this we can call a dead cert). As for Ministerial qualities - "I can tell Garret I wouldn't mind being driven by a chauffeur myself". And the final plea, a mixture of desire and the born politicians offer as a deal - "I would love to be a full time politician, please give me your support
and I will not fail you".
Moloney, all of 30 and with the look of a solicitor and of one who knows that given the right circumstances he will get the Ministerial Merc, was no slouch in going through the crowd pleasing formalities. And he not only thanked the same people Lowry had thanked but topped it all by beginning his speech in Irish. And then Moloney pulled the best stroke, by tossing out on the floor the underlying drama of the convention.
"I have known Michael a long time and it's a great pity you have to choose between the two of us . . . the reality is that we are two ambitious men, both want to make it to Dail Eireann and the pity is that we both can't make it . . . " and then the capper, " . . . but I must say, all modesty aside - I'm the better man!"
Brought the house down.
As Garret FitzGerald stood at the rostrum making the kind of speech that Leaders of the Opposition make on these occasions, a drop of moisture rolled off the wall above the stage and plopped onto his left shoulder. Over 500 people had spent three hours in the hall designed to hold 300. The radiators blazed merrily. Condensation rolled down the walls.
Beyond that, the blood was up. The Fine Gaelers, hot as the radiators, moist as the walls, fairly glowed.
The delegates had voted, the result had been announced and now the evening was being wrapped up. As Paddy O'Toole, TD, chairing the convention, had read out the result, Michael Lowry's throat gulped beneath his pale face. 201 to 89. At the microphone he licked his lips and said that the result had been as he'd expected it but, "to be honest I expected to do a bit better" .
In truth, most of the votes would have been decided before the convention began. But Lowry in his moment of defeat made a speech that, if it had preceded the vote, might have got him the nomination.
He felt that his contesting the nomination against the popular Moloney was the best thing that had happened to Fine Gael in donkey's years. He urged delegates to support Moloney and "use every drop of blood possible in your body to ensure that you get every vote possible for David Moloney". Moloney was as good a winner as Lowry was a good loser. The emotion and drama of the evening came to a climax as the two shook hands and everything after that, including FitzGerald's speech, was mere afterglow.
Except the one final and succinct contribution from National Organizer, Peter Prendergast. A lot of people know about David Moloney - when the time comes they must be convinced to vote for him, "to give us the loan of their vote, just this time". The delegates must go off and talk of David Moloney, think of him, dream of him, and when they wake up in the morning they must do so with David Moloney's name on their lips.
The biggest Fine Gael crowd to assemble in North Tipperary in recent years had been hothoused, opened, and seeded. There are 42 constituencies, three major parties, and nobody knows how many Borrisoleighs. The
harvest is called Dail Eireann.