They might not launch heaves like they used to, but maybe that’s just as well. Because while Fianna Fáil’s psychodramas may be entertaining to watch for their rivals, they tend not to be very good for the country. In the long run, they tend not to be very good for Fianna Fáil either.
Readers who have clocked up a half century or more will recall the heaves against Charlie Haughey of the early 1980s, which seemed to be the main political business of the country – at a time when the economy was in recession, the public finances were spiralling out of control and Northern Ireland was aflame. (Those of a younger vintage can ask Santa for Eoin O’Malley’s excellent book Charlie vs Garret, or indeed there’s an Inside Politics podcast series you can listen to.)
Having seized the leadership of the party in 1979, Haughey and his party rivals – notably Des O’Malley – fought a series of battles over control of it, and by extension the government. During the period there were three heaves against Haughey, all unsuccessful, and three general elections. And while it may be too simplistic to draw a line between Fianna Fáil’s uncivil wars and the rudderless state of the country at the time, it’s hard to conclude that they weren’t a factor.
Haughey had a keen sense of the economic plight of the country – but he was not prepared to take the tough action required to fix the public finances and stabilise the economy because he was not politically strong enough in his own party to do it. He was too focused on consolidating his own position.
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“The years 1980 and 1981 were spent in preparation for election rather than governing,” notes Eoin O’Malley. Haughey needed an election because he needed to win his own majority to establish his authority in the party. Fianna Fáil spent the time looking inward, not outward, and the country suffered the consequences.
[ Tribunal to cast a cold eye on life and wealth of CharlieOpens in new window ]
A decade later, the public finances had been stabilised and the economy was beginning to grow into what we now know as the pre-Celtic Tiger period, after Haughey’s most productive and positive period in government, first heading a minority Fianna Fáil government and then a coalition with O’Malley’s Progressive Democrats.
But the betrayal of Fianna Fáil’s “core value” by entering a coalition and a botched presidential election (er, yes, another of those) in 1990 had undermined Haughey, with the party and a gang of lean and hungry conspirators, led by Albert Reynolds, moved to take him out. It took a few months, but they got there. Several months later, the government fell. In the subsequent election, the party lost nine seats and 5 per cent of the vote – its worst ever result since 1927. The country lost a stable and generally sensible government, even if it was one beset by scandal and ill-at-ease with itself.
Despite the setback, Reynolds performed a Houdini act and formed a coalition with Labour. That fell apart two years later amid a welter of mistrust and infighting. Fianna Fáil ended up in opposition under a new leader.
Not surprisingly perhaps, Bertie Ahern valued party unity above all else, carefully uniting both the Haughey and Reynolds wings of the party. In government after 1997, he would sacrifice anything – including his own ministers, if necessary – to maintain the coalition’s coherence.
[ Bertie Ahern career timeline: where did he come from?Opens in new window ]
But his time as a focal point for division in government would come. The rolling controversy over Ahern’s personal finances which exploded in 2006 would come to dominate the remainder of that government and the subsequent general election campaign in 2007 – although voters seemed less interested in Ahern’s finances than in their own and the country’s.
When he was returned to government after that election, there was little reprieve: government and politics were conducted with half an eye always on the tribunal. In the spring of 2008, less than a year after winning the election, Ahern would step down. But the incessant attention on Ahern’s finances and on the related controversies orbiting the tribunals meant that at exactly the time when attention should have been focused on the warning signals in the world economy and what they might mean for Ireland, politicians and all those in political circles found it too easy to fall back to the comfort of a “sure, it’ll be grand” position. Economic vulnerabilities were ignored; banking frailties went unexamined.
This wasn’t just because of Ahern’s slow destruction at the tribunal. But its leader’s difficulties were part of the reason that reality did not dawn on that government until it was too late. The consequences for the country – and then for the party – were cataclysmic.
It’s always easy to overdo historical parallels. But it would be worse to ignore altogether the lessons of history. And the evidence suggests that when Fianna Fáil is consumed by its own divisions and squabbles, it doesn’t do the job of governing well.
Micheál Martin’s disastrous handling of the presidential election has understandably led to huge frustration in his party. This has been clear since the campaign and came to a head at the parliamentary party meeting on Tuesday night. But it has not so far been resolved. For a smaller group within the parliamentary party – viscerally hostile to the leader for a variety of reasons – it is an opportunity to bring forward leadership change. Not yet having the numbers to push the button, they will now harry him, they hope, to destruction. Looking on, a large group in the parliamentary party are sitting on their hands.
For a government facing immense challenges on infrastructure, on housing, on defence and security, and the economy, all against a background of unprecedented international menace, this is not a good prospect for the new year. Martin has dismissed the idea of putting down a confidence motion in himself. But a more decisive showdown than the one this week might be best for everyone.
