Pat Rabbitte's successor should be glad to see kindred parties buoyant in Australia and the UK, where Diana's death has turned back the clock, writes James Helm
The prospect of installing a successor to Pat Rabbitte as Labour leader has raised the political tempo after the post-election lull. And once the winner has emerged to face the pressing challenges ahead, political animals here, election buffs, keen followers of polls and parties the world over, can look forward to a riveting time ahead.
Among the global highlights in the next year or so, Australians go the polls in the next few months. Their abrasive, resilient prime minister, John Howard, aims to continue his remarkable electoral success and win a fifth term. His Labor opponents, however, are revitalised under the leadership of Kevin Rudd. Rudd was, until very recently, known as a clean-cut family man, an intellectual with a firm faith and a cupboard free of skeletons.
In recent weeks, a red-faced Rudd has faced questions about a drunken trip to a New York strip club. Which can't have been easy, as he says he can barely remember it.
The reaction of Aussies? His poll ratings have soared, and he's ahead of Howard.
Next, there's the UK. Barely is he through the door of No 10 and Gordon Brown is gazing at his calendar, pondering when to pounce. His Conservative opponents are struggling, their leader David Cameron trying to relaunch after a tough summer.
So two Labour/Labor leaders, each pretty buoyant. Their parties may be different to Ireland's Labour, as is their political landscape, but each case offers some encouragement to Rabbitte's eventual successor.
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The BBC Parliament channel isn't usually the place to find mass outpourings of public grief and emotion. Yet hours of broadcasting were given over this week to the coverage of Princess Diana's funeral, a decade ago. In the UK and elsewhere, 10 years on, her life and tragic death can still command wall-to-wall coverage. Time magazine's cover carried her picture with the caption: "Why Diana Mattered".
In London last week I crossed Hyde Park and saw the Princess Diana memorial fountain, which has struggled through various controversies, and the children's playground named after her. What, if anything, I wondered, had actually changed in British public life, and particularly in the media, as a result of that extraordinary week in 1997?
As a reporter living in London at the time, I remember watching the hearse carrying her coffin as it passed the end of our street on its sad journey back from Paris. In the following days, outside Kensington Palace, I was harangued by angry members of the crowd: "Are you a photographer?" they wanted to know
From a few bouquets, the flowers began to build until they covered a huge swathe of grass, their sweet smell hanging in the air. I was on The Mall on the day of the funeral as the gun carriage with Diana's coffin on it came by, the two young princes walking behind it. As the crowd waited during the service at Westminster Abbey, a ripple of applause built into a crescendo, a huge wave of noise.
New parameters for public displays of emotion appeared to be established. Following a tragedy, the piling up of floral tributes has become the norm, and is recorded by TV cameras and newspaper photographers to illustrate the public sentiment. Books of condolence have become ways of expressing and channelling grief.
Princess Diana's death launched a thousand academic theses, and kept both social commentators and conspiracy theorists busy. The tragic death of a young woman and her boyfriend convulsed a country, and shocked many beyond it. Whether the public reaction was understandable, or hysterical, it was real.
With the full inquest into Diana's death scheduled to start next month, she will, just as in life, remain in the headlines.
James Helm was the BBC's Dublin Correspondent from 2002-2007