Born in 1950s Ireland, Catherine Connolly – from a family of 14 reared in a small council house in Galway – already had an impressive CV.
On Saturday, she was elected by a landslide to the highest office in the land.
The ninth child is now the 10th president.
A stunning victory in an extraordinary election.
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It was a race between two functioning candidates and one loose runner careering around the course and causing untold misery to his inept connections (the Taoiseach and the Minister for Public Expenditure).
It was an election where people who weren’t on the ballot paper generated more heat and noise than the two women contesting it.
An exercise where aspiring presidents who didn’t make it to or through the nomination process became a whinge chorus of the disappointed, indignant, insulted and miffed.
Fine Gael had a stinker. Fianna Fáil had a meltdown.
Connolly sailed serenely through it all.
Along with the clown-car moments and positive canvassing set pieces, there were nasty undertones to much of the campaign.
But, as is ever the case in our increasingly brutal presidential elections, it was touching and uplifting at the very end.
When battle was done, Catherine was joined on the stage in Dublin Castle by her vanquished rival, Heather Humphreys.
The two women met privately in the State Apartments before the official result was announced. There were smiles and warm handshakes and magnanimous words.
In her brief speech after returning officer Barry Ryan confirmed the final figures, the president-elect said she was looking forward to having a glass of gin and elderflower tonic again soon with Heather. They had sipped some when out in RTÉ for one of the campaign debates.
“Catherine will be my president and I wish you well,” said the former deputy leader of Fine Gael, to cheers and applause from the hordes of Connolly supporters in St Patrick’s Hall.
The dust doesn’t settle when a new president is elected.
It disappears.
But only for the winner – whisked away from the grubby world of politics as the panoply of high office activates like a force-field around them. The transformation from ordinary citizen to first citizen is instant.
When she left Dublin Castle on Saturday evening, Catherine’s close security detail was already in place.
It’s a non-political world now for her.
She left behind simmering rancour and recrimination in two Government parties smarting from a self-inflicted election clobbering.
[ The winners and losers of the presidential electionOpens in new window ]
And she left behind the rejoicing parties of the new United Left, shamelessly trying to outdo each other in claiming the credit for her overwhelming success.
Labour was telling anyone who would listen that it was the first party “to reach out” to the others and suggest forming a united front. And this is true.
The Social Democrats were telling anyone who would listen that their party was the first to come out and back Connolly’s campaign, long before the others tentatively ventured aboard. This is also true.
Sinn Féin’s Mary Lou McDonald and her senior colleagues were telling anyone who would listen that the party’s decision to support the president-elect was the “game-changer” that led to her thumping victory. Also true.
And Paul Murphy of People Before Profit was flying around the place in a fug of smug, as if he had single-handedly masterminded the astonishing ascent of the former Independent TD for Galway West.
Back on Desolation Street, people weren’t quite so forthcoming.
At one point, it looked like Fianna Fáil – mirroring its abysmal campaign – wouldn’t even have a representative in Dublin Castle to honour the election of our new president. Eyebrows were raised early in the day when several journalists were informed by senior media handlers that Taoiseach Micheál Martin would be staying in Cork.
Licking his wounds, presumably.
In an election where toys were being hurled from prams at a ferocious rate, this unprecedented development was viewed as a hissy fit of monumental proportions. It was immediately reported by the Cork-based Irish Examiner.
There was an immediate online reaction to this news. A number of backbench TDs, who didn’t need much encouragement to ratchet up their outrage, were furious. Cork North-Central TD Pádraig O’Sullivan, said “the Taoiseach and Tánaiste should be down to Dublin” to congratulate the president-elect.
Then, late in the afternoon, word went out that Micheál was coming to town after all. Everybody laughed.
Except the people in Fine Gael who had been with Tánaiste Simon Harris earlier when he came to Dublin Castle to talk the media and were now waiting for him to return for the official announcement.
“Fianna Fáil is trying to make out we had as bad an election as they did, totally f*****g forgetting that we stood and fought when they ran away,” said one Fine Gaeler.
While Harris faced the press in the courtyard, a large group of Social Democrat and Labour TDs huddled in a nearby tunnel archway, reluctant to walk behind him while he was speaking.
They were all very giddy.
“I bought the president a tuna wrap and a black coffee last Saturday,” said Labour’s Conor Sheehan, delighted with himself, and they gave him a little cheer.
Apart from around the Tánaiste, there was a party atmosphere at the Castle. Across town in the RDS, where the counts for most of the Dublin constituencies were happening, it was very dull.
The main excitement was when the first boxes were opened at 9am. Five minutes later the tallypeople were already predicting a win for Connolly.
Time went slowly.
“Aah, but you’d miss The Monk all the same, wouldn’t you not?” said “a woman from Kimmage” who was at the general election count last year when the celebrity criminal, who narrowly missed out on a seat in Dublin Central, came in for a nosey around.
A group of election observers from the Organisation of Security and Co-Operation in Europe, wearing OSCE armbands, kept a watching eye on things. They observe elections in all sorts of places where democracy is imperilled.
This is currently the case in Ireland, if the messages on the concerningly huge number of spoiled votes was anything to go by.
Aontú leader Peadar Tóibín admitted to spoiling his vote. Peadar will do anything for a headline.
The new British ambassador, Kara Owen, dropped in at midday to watch the count, but there was very little to see, not even a novelty candidate to make her feel at home.
[ ‘I’ve got an amazing múinteoir’: Kara Owen, the new British ambassador to IrelandOpens in new window ]
Martin tried that with Gavin and it didn’t work.
Undaunted, her excellency made her way to Dublin Castle for the formal announcement, which was far more entertaining.
Former Fianna Fáil minister Mary Hanafin, who tried unsuccessfully to get her party’s nomination, was in good spirits despite the implosion her former leader’s choice of candidate.
“An articulate female barrister with political experience le Gaeilge.. Why didn’t I think of that?” she smiled.
Mary Lou, in sparkling form, arrived wearing a green coat and stylish green Adidas Gazelle trainers*.
“So listen,” she began, “today is a magnificent day for Catherine ...”
She could have talked forever, and nearly did.
The happy laughter of Paul Murphy drifted across the courtyard.
Social Democrat leader Holly Cairns was next in to celebrate this “unparalleled affirmation of Catherine as Uachtarán”. She had her new baby with her on this special occasion.
MEP Luke “Ming” Flanagan materialised beneath the main portico. Historian Diarmaid Ferriter did a turn for Miriam O’Callaghan in the RTÉ Gazebo and Ivan Yates blathered on for Sky News.
There was bad news from Cork. It seems somebody posted a ballot paper with poo on it.
“Jesus. Micheál is really taking this very badly,” said a euphoric, smirking member of the United Left Front.
The light began to fade.
Orange flames flickered in the carriage lamps around the courtyard.
St Patrick’s Hall, in all its gilded splendour, looked magnificent. The crowd swelled in happy anticipation of Catherine’s arrival.
There was Harris and a relaxed Humphreys, with a sizeable number of Fine Gael politicians to offer support. “I’m done now and I’m still alive,” she said. “Catherine is my president.”
We imagined Heather belting back home to Monaghan and collapsing on to the sofa with a football-sized glass of wine.
The Taoiseach arrived on his own.
The members of the United Left alliance formed a large circle underneath the crystal chandelier. It looked like they were waiting for Connolly to come in and dance in the middle of it.
But it was really for the leaders to get a photo together with president-elect, who was cheered to the rafters when she arrived.
These were the moments to remember forever.
The president-elect made a short but typically eloquent speech. She had no notes.
She spoke of “a new Republic” and promised to be a voice for peace and neutrality.
“A public and a democracy needs constructive questioning.”
Micheál looked like he was sucking a lemon.
A beaming Humphreys delivered a gracious reply. She looked like a weight was gone from off her shoulders.
The Taoiseach and Tánaiste were gracious to a fault when they spoke.
“The great thing about this country is that we live in an enduring democracy,” said Harris. “We have an election, we go at it hammer and tongs and then we come together proudly behind the winner of the election.”
Wait until they start turning on each other in FF and FG.
Give it a week and they’ll be fighting like rats in a bag.
When the speeches finished, the president-elect was escorted around the back of the platform with Micheál and Simon. No time for mingling.
Four Army officers materialised at the side wall.
Orla O’Hanrahan, secretary general to the president, slipped in behind them.
Catherine Martina Ann Connolly from Shantalla.
The ninth child is the 10th president.
She had better get used to this now.
*This article was amended on October 26th, 2025. A previous version incorrectly stated that Mary Lou McDonald was wearing “Puma Gazelle trainers”.
