It was an incident described by Sinn Féin’s newspaper An Phoblacht, as part of a “wave of Garda repression”, a concerted campaign that “has left major suspicions” over a “political agenda” within the Garda.
A week after Pearse Doherty and Matt Carthy (now Sinn Féin TDs for Donegal and Cavan-Monaghan) were arrested following a 1998 incident at an O’Connell Street taxi rank, the paper reported they were refused medical representation and solicitors in Store Street Garda station.
Almost 25 years later it was resurrected in the Dáil during a debate on the cost of living that quickly escalated into a no-holds barred slagging match between Doherty and Leo Varadkar. The Tánaiste told the Sinn Féin finance spokesman he had been arrested for having “abused, mistreated a garda síochána”. As The Irish Times reported in July 1999, four Sinn Féin members were prosecuted and given the probation act, with Doherty having called a garda “an abusive name”.
[ Varadkar hits out at Doherty over ‘cheap shots’ in heated Dáil exchangesOpens in new window ]
It may have been political theatre, but there was little playful in the exchanges across the floor of the Dáil. The pair have previous: during a heated debate in 2018 the then-taoiseach told Doherty “it doesn’t take very long for your balaclava to slip”. Indeed, sharp exchanges have been a growing feature of leaders’ questions this year, primarily between Micheál Martin and Mary Lou McDonald. But what is underlying it?
The twice-weekly leaders’ questions, often fodder for news bulletins, plays a particular role in the political week: those who have participated describe the extra pressure, to land punches, to generate coverage, speak to your core audience, undermine your opponent. It involves meticulous preparation, scripting replies and planning verbal jousting.
Combatants take different approaches – Paschal Donohoe and Michael McGrath stay calm. The Taoiseach and the Tánaiste get stuck in – indeed, some in the Opposition believe Varadkar can be goaded into intemperate remarks. Certainly if the goal was to get Varadkar angry, Sinn Féin succeeded, although there are few who believe either side intended the exchange to get quite so bitter.
Foot-soldiers in both parties responded as expected. “I think he’s dead right and Pearse got a bit of his own medicine for a change,” said one Fine Gaeler, exasperated by what they see as passivity in their party. On the Sinn Féin side the verdict was Varadkar had lost his cool and came off worse.
However sources on both sides concede that such scenes can turn off voters, who want to see solutions.
Gloves-off exchanges are rapid-fire expressions of how each party wants to portray the other: detached, arrogant elitist on the one hand; subversive and untrustworthy on the other. With increasingly polarised and personalised politics in the Oireachtas, expect more of this to come.
