"Who's coming in and robbing our fish?" asks one Lisbon Treaty sceptic. Kathy Sheridanreports from the Fianna Fáil "Yes Bus" in Tallaght and Dublin city centre
BE CIVIC-MINDED today. Pet a politician. Embrace an activist. Return their smiles. Accept their leaflets. Marvel at their ability not to smack every third citizen, hard, around the ears.
"I'd like to read the treaty. I tried but I can't," said a young man. Why not? "Because it said 'preamble' - and anything with the word 'preamble' in it loses it for me . . . "
"I wish they'd explain it better," said a harried woman. Well, have you read the Referendum Commission's booklet - you know, the yellow one? "Mmmmh . . . Yeeaahh . . . But it needs more headlines or something."
And they were the livelier-looking ones around Dublin city centre during Fianna Fáil's 8am blitz on dozy Luas travellers. Seven or eight relentlessly cheerful Ogra FFers, mainly from UCD's Kevin Barry cumann, disgorged from the battle bus and fanned out in their yellow T-shirts to rally the chilly hordes, most of whom swept grumpily on.
Making eye contact was an achievement in itself, said clean-cut deputy Chris Andrews. "At this hour of the morning, it has to be passive -aggressive . . . It's about visibility, about being seen to be hungry for it . . . "
When the target market finally wakes up, there is the odd jolt of recognition, swiftly followed by a query - less about qualified majority voting than about why they can't park outside their own house, or why there are trees blocking the light.
"It's exactly the same as 12 months ago, it's all local issues," says a wry Andrews. "It's all 'why should I vote for the Lisbon Treaty if you can't cut down the trees or why should I vote for the Lisbon Treaty if you can't remove the yellow lines' . . . "
It's a relief when a resolute woman with her pretty, floppy-haired son pitches up with a proper treaty question. "Is there going to be national conscription into the Army? There's no way I'm letting my son into the Army - I would leave Ireland," says Jean Gray from Leixlip.
Won't happen, says Andrews, while Rosaleen Martin explains the No camp has used conscription as a scare tactic in every treaty referendum. "What worries me is that we'll be answerable to some faceless committee guys sitting around a table in Europe," says Gray.
"They're guys like me," says Andrews soothingly, "guys like Charlie McCreevy". "Oh. Charlie. The guy who pumped up prices," she volleys. She discusses water quality, homelessness and imported food. Andrews bravely holds his ground: "But you have to take a global view. It may be hard for you, but not as hard as if you're a farmer sitting in Ethiopia." They explain that abortion and neutrality can be changed only by the Irish government. Gray smiles: "You're very approachable. You have a lovely calm way about you. But I'm just a bit sceptical still."
After which we leave the lovely calm Andrews and board the bus for the Square in Tallaght, where odd couple, Conor Lenihan, Minister of State for Integration, and local TD Charlie O'Connor form an entertaining reception committee with councillor Joe Neville.
We are in the heart of the constituency that polled the highest No vote nationally in the first Nice treaty referendum. Of a 31 per cent turnout, nearly two-thirds voted No, remarks Joe, the numbers man.
"At the moment, it's very similar to Nice One. There was a poll three weeks before Nice One where the Yes vote was more than double the Nos. But roughly 50 per cent of those polled were 'don't knows' and most of them voted No in the end." The way Joe tells it, it sounds ominous.
It begins with the taxi men outside, their idle cabs snaking all the way around the car park. "I don't think you'll get many taxi men voting Yes," says Gerard Hardy grimly, pointing out that there are three votes in his family. They're being put out of business, claims another, by "foreigners being funded by the HSE to buy taxis . . . I'm earning less than I was 10 years ago. And it is connected with Europe . . . Would all these people be in the country taking my job away if we weren't in Europe?"
Inside, a man boasts about his full recovery from a heart attack, then suddenly explodes: "The farmers are f**ked, the fishermen are f**ked. Who's coming in and robbing our fish? Foreigners. Spanish . . . Anyway I don't be here to vote". "You taking a holiday?" asks Charlie O'Connor. "Yeah. To Spain".
A hotel worker says that all her colleagues are voting No because it would "only encourage more foreigners in to take jobs".
Is there a pattern here? Charlie spreads his hands and sighs. "That's definitely bubbling under . . . " Patiently, he and Conor Lenihan point out that Tallaght Hospital, the IT, the local roads, all benefited from EU money. "We live in a town that has benefited from Europe but no one is walking up to me to discuss the treaty - they want to talk about housing and the hospital," says O'Connor. "But we have to focus now . . . "