DÁIL SKETCH:TYPECASTING IS a terrible thing. Trevor transgresses and we bow our heads in sorrow. A good man brought down by a malicious leak. The Greens are smarting, and deeply suspicious of their Coalition partner.
The finger of blame points to Fianna Fáil. They have form, you know. Cabinet bruiser Dermot Ahern is in the frame. He doesn’t mind mixing it. The script (first draft) was written on Tuesday night. It went out the window by yesterday morning. You could see it in Biffo’s bullish demeanour. The Taoiseach’s tail was up during Leaders’ Questions. His Ministers looked relaxed.
As the business of the day continued, most of them ambled away, leaving three big-hitters behind on the front bench. Biff! (The Boss), Batt! (Minister for Education), Bosh! (Minister for Justice).
The Government Heavy Gang sat together during the Order of Business – the very picture of contentment. Oooh Minister Gormley! Tickle us some more with that organic olive branch!
But while the Big Boys enjoyed confident Biffo’s quips, the Fianna Fáil backbenchers had yet to hear they were off the hook. They know the story as well as everyone else: how, when any political scandal hits, the first question on the FF agenda is: “Did we do it?”
But there was a happy ending in it for the backbenchers, as they padded around Leinster House buttonholing journalists for the latest on the Passion of St Trevor and the Fury of Fianna Fáil.
“What are you hearing?”
“Well, it seems like you didn’t do it. At least not directly.”
“What? You mean we . . .?”
“Yes. The evidence seems to be pointing in another direction.”
“Not Dermot Ahern then?”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
“So it wasn’t us?”
“Apparently not.”
It was quite touching. The furrowed brows and the perplexed expressions, then the slow dawning, and then the light spreading across their relieved little faces. Of course, they knew it all along. Phew.
Trevor Sargent was in the chamber first thing. He may not be minister for food anymore, but he has a new title now, conferred by all-party agreement. He is now the Honourable Member for Dublin North. Fell on his parsnip/carrot/chard with commendable speed when his inappropriate intervention with a garda came to light.
Mary Hanafin began the beatification on the Pat Kenny show. “Trevor was motivated by the very best intentions,” she cooed. For the rest of the day, members of Fianna Fáil showered the former minister and champion of the homegrown vegetable with praise.
When Enda Kenny commended him for the dignified manner of his resignation, he got no argument from across the floor. Their most recent casualties – Bertie and the Bull O’Donoghue – weren’t seen in the chamber for ages after their respective falls from grace. Willie has yet to appear. Trevor sat beside his colleague Mary White, exuding honour and decency. Other Green colleagues mustered too.
It rather took the gloss off Inda’s charge that the Coalition is “riven by internal tension” and “divided by suspicion and lack of trust”. In fact, it was Biffo who clambered onto the unfamiliar territory of the moral high ground. It is the Fine Gael leader who “has a lot to answer for in terms of how his people behaved”.
A few hours later and Dermot Ahern was inviting Pat Rabbitte and Charlie Flanagan outside to accuse him again of setting up poor Trevor. That’s a fight you’d pay good money to see.
Eamon Gilmore persevered with the coalition-split theory. “The iceberg has struck. It is now just a matter of time.” So it wasn’t a leak that sunk Trevor. It was a lettuce. The Labour leader concluded his Titanic effort with a call for a general election. Biffo dismissed the suggestion: “There isn’t a coherent alternative.”
The Opposition benches unleashed a volley of howls: “Gwagh . . . urgh . . . mwah!” Incoherent? Us? “Taoiseach, you have been blessed with a responsible Opposition,” harrumphed Eamon. “You’re blaspheming now,” retorted Noel Dempsey, the lone frontbench bootboy now that Dermot is on best behaviour.
After a respectable period in view, the honourable member for Dublin North withdrew. Things got back to normal. Pat Rabbitte made a boat from a sheet of paper as Inda asked when the new minister for defence will be appointed. The Taoiseach wouldn’t say. He’s doing the job himself for the foreseeable future, in accordance with the Constitution, and that’s that.
Gilmore pressed for a straight answer. Cowen blustered some more and amid the mutter, he seemed to confuse the Department of Defence with the Department of Health. Sinn Féin’s Caoimhghín Ó Caoláin pounced.
“The Minister for Health?”
“I said Defence.”
“I thought you said Health.”
“Don’t tell me you’re putting in a deafness claim as well. You were a lot closer to gunfire than I was!”
Dermot Ahern laughed, but kept his mouth shut. We hear Biffo had him fitted over the weekend with one of those collars you put on dogs who bark too much.
Defence questions were scheduled for the afternoon. Everyone rushed in to see how the acting Minister would do. Cowen didn’t turn up, despite his earlier protestations that he’s the man for the job. Pat Carey, the Government’s man for all seasons, filled in. But could Biffo take over Trevor’s duties too? It makes sense: Minister for Defence and Minister for Food. After all, an army marches on its stomach.
