The Crookedness of Irish Politics

12 February 2016

The Crookedness

of Irish Politics

History explains our

political parochialism

by Frank Armstrong

The Irish nature

avoids straight lines

2016 ELECTION

February 2016 13

n the 2012 documentary ‘Dreamtime Revis-

ited’ poet-philosopher John Moriarity

climbed Derada Hill in his adopted home of

Connemara. Observing its hinterland he

remarked that all about him was crooked,

from the contours of the Oranmore River to the

crooked coast towards the Aran Islands and the

crooked horizon of the Twelve Bens. He calls

this his “wonderful crooked world”.

In most of the country that elliptical scene is

familiar. And it seems to have found a reﬂection

in a human character where straight lines are

avoided: in our literature language has been

distorted and remade; traditional Irish music

allies bewitching interchange between minor

and major keys with polyrhythmic time; in day-

to-day exchanges a sense of humour is often

prized above other qualities, including honesty.

Travelling west from the Pale into wilder terrain

these qualities grow more pronounced: mythos

overwhelms logos in the sodden bog of collec-

tive memory.

In France terroir connotes the long-standing

relationship between a people and their land-

scape that is said to impart distinctive ﬂavours

to the food and wine produced there. In Ireland,

where gastronomy has traditionally been

awarded a low priority, terroir might be

observed in linguistic and musical dissonances

that spring from the undulating, even chaotic,

landscape. We talk about what the Dutch would

do if they lived in Ireland, but perhaps they are

a product of the straight lines on their sunken

horizon, and the practical concern of keeping

the ocean at bay. Perhaps they would simply do

surprisingly little.

Even the Irish weather, grudgingly benign at

least until recent times, ﬁnds a reﬂection in the

periodically sullen and infuriatingly

inconsistent Irish temperament. We might all

recognise its description by Samuel Beckett’s

character Molloy: “I know it was warm again the

day I left but that meant nothing in my part of

the world where it seemed to be warm or cold

or mild at any time of the year”. The poor qual-

ity of the built infrastructure here would be

insufferable in other parts of Europe at a similar

latitude where it has been built to endure

harsher winters.

Ireland is on the periphery of Europe and this

contributes to the strangeness of its culture and

the fact that it takes a status quo, bordering on

the ridiculous, for granted.

Observed empirically, to some extent Ireland

retains the political economy of a post-colonial

outpost, now a tax haven. Une isle derriere une

isle according to one French geographer –

spared both Roman conquest and barbarian

hordes – the country did not join the European

mainstream. Ireland was a repository of learn-

ing and mysticism during a brief golden age,

then passed into a millennium of obscurity

before a shuddering encounter with an advanced

civilisation from the neighbouring island.

The ensuing appropriation imposed a system

of individual private property ‘from Heaven to

Hell’ distinct from what had been characteristi-

cally communal arrangements under native

Brehon Law.

Being the victim of the ﬁrst adventure of the

British Empire also necessarily generated an

antipathy to rules and laws, since they were

imposed in the interest of the coloniser, not the

natives.

Sui generis, Ireland is the only country whose

population was greater in the 1840s than today,

due to the Great Famine and its legacy. The

unique trauma of starvation and forced

emigration led to short-termism, and the

ascendancy of expediency over ideology or

even ideas. A current legacy of this attitude is

the ingrained hostility to planning and indeed

environmentalism: “you can’t eat the

landscape”.

The Irish Nation is a product of the late eight-

eenth century when the movement of the United

Irishmen failed to unite all creeds: simultane-

ously in 1795 the orchestrated emergence of the

Orange Order and of Maynooth University that

created a quasi-established Catholic Church

put paid to the aspirations of Wolfe Tone and

his colleagues. The Old English descendants of

the Normans and the native Gael coalesced invi-

olably in the end, to form an overwhelmingly

Catholic nation.

The Normans might now be perceived as

having tempered a native tendency towards the

fast and loose, but contemporary English

observers bemoaned the cultural slippage that

attended the medieval wave of colonisation: as

if the rivers ﬂowing from the hilly regions inhab

ited by the Gael imbued the plain-dwelling

Normans with their characteristics. The Protes-

tant New English who arrived primarily in the

seventeenth century descended into a familiar

decadence albeit preserving a singular sectar-

ian identity by avoiding miscegenation.

Only in the north east corner, within the cul-

tural orbit of lowland Scotland, did a distinct

culture emerge.

Ireland’s dramatic landscape is not unique,

but what is unusual is ﬁrst an isolation from and

then a quite sudden absorption of its substan-

tial population (by comparison with the equally

untamed Scottish Highlands for instance) into

as advanced a polity as early modern

England’s.

An Irishman Other has long acted as a foil to

the sober, judicious Englishman and often

revels in his allotted role as revolutionary

misﬁt, bard and poet. From this we might trace

a cultural tolerance of drunkenness.

The contradictions between the two cultures

engendered a great cultural ferment that ani-

mated an Irish literary Renaissance that began

at the end of the nineteenth century. In its wake

Irishmen were awarded a remarkable four

Nobel Prizes for literature, and this with James

Joyce, widely regarded as the pre-eminent nov-

elist of the twentieth century, missing out. Even

a century later what seem parochial themes res-

onate beyond our shores such that an

unremarkable rock band like U

2 compose

songs that connect with a global audience.

But translate the crookedness of the Irish

character into Irish politics and what do we

ﬁnd? If in literature the distortion of language

can be art, in politics it is artiﬁce. Corruption,

famously found by the Mahon Tribunal to be

“systemic and endemic” is the unreconstructed

manifestation, but there are other more

14 February 2016

insidious twistednesses. They have spawned

the laxity whereby a politician can say one thing

to one crowd and another to the next. Enda

Kenny can assert Ireland’s commitment to Cli-

mate Change while almost in the same breath

whisper his continued support for Irish agricul-

ture’s expansionary and carbon-intensive

ambitions. Fianna Fáil can be both left-wing and

right-wing: Bertie Ahern, purveying his “social-

ist agenda” from the Galway tent.

The media hardly demur as they often engage

in the same doublespeak. For example, an Irish

Times editorial on December 5th came with the

no-nonsense title: ‘Rhetoric must give way to

action in push for COP21 deal on climate

change’. It criticised Enda Kenny’s hypocrisy in

promoting climate-unfriendly beef production

but casually accepted his agenda; in the end

inveighing lamely: "If that is the case we must

make meaningful commitments on other

fronts".

Accounting for the absence of clear ideologi-

cal demarcation between Irish political parties

requires further exploration of Irish history. In

the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars the

United Kingdom could resume trade with the

Continent, making Irish grain relatively expen-

sive and giving a comparative advantage to

cattle farming. The Famine accelerated the

transformation of the rural economy from

labour-intensive tillage to extensive pasture

where proﬁtability required a low labour input.

Population continued to decline from the 1850s

to the 1950s as emigration denuded rural Ire-

land especially of the youth which might have

brought entrepreneurial creativity or, failing

that, revolution.

The Land War of the 1880s, while destructive

to the Protestant Ascendancy that had been at

the apex of an almost feudal society since the

seventeenth century, did not alter the funda-

mental economic structures as pastoral

agriculture remained dominant. An increasingly

petit bourgeois Irish peasantry sold beef and

butter and purchased, mainly imported foods

and other goods, on the British imperial market.

A declining population, absentee landlords, a

lack of state intervention, and distance from

markets explain why the Industrial Revolution

only arrived in the North East. The large surplus

of Irish labour migrated to Lancashire, Glas-

gow, New York and beyond. Without a

substantial urban proletariat socialist move

ments had little support base.

The onset of Sinn Féin (We Ourselves) in 1905

presented the possibility of a new politics of

self-reliance and re-distribution, but through-

out its history and that of its progenies the

national card has trumped the egalitarian.

The 1916 Rising was driven by poets and led

to a romantic view of politics that derided the

empirical, the utilitarian and often even the

practical. There was an 'imagined community'

of the nation. Nothing more realistic.

Pádraic Pearse, the poet leader of the 1916

Rising whose rhetoric of blood sacriﬁce invites

comparison with fascism, implanted in the

body politic enduring notions of nationalist her-

oism. From the outset, insufﬁcient attention

was paid to dreary niceties such as infrastruc-

ture, regional development and planning.

Ideological incoherence and institutional

inefﬁciency fed off each other.

An historic opportunity presented itself at the

end of World War I when Ireland became inde-

pendent and a generation mainly in their

thirties came to power.

But this unprecedented generational shift

descended into a murderous Civil War whose

source of contention was a scintilla of doctrine,

in a quasi-throwback to the arcane disputations

of a medieval church council: the Oath of Alle-

giance to the King. That ‘empty formula of

words’, as it was later conceded by Eamon de

Valera in another example of linguistic contor-

tion, was the main point of contention in the

Treaty debates.

Unfortunately Sinn Féin had spawned what

were to become more or less all this State's

political forces.

The Sinn Féin gene pool has generated

Cumann na nGaedheal (1922-35), Fianna Fáil

(1927-), Fine Gael (1935-), arguably Clann na

Poblachta (1946-65) and the latest manifesta-

tion of Sinn Féin (1969).

Each has played musical chairs with ideol-

ogy: Fianna Fáil swinging between

protectionism and open markets; Fine Gael

tense between the idea of a Just Society and the

economic conservatism of Christian

Democracy.

What really distinguishes one from the other

is the degree of commitment to the nationalist

cause. Fine Gael became the party of concilia-

tory nationalism that captured the former

Unionist constituency in the South.

The political lines were ﬁrst drawn between,

essentially, two parties that have been the

dominant partner in every government since

independence. Any individual ambitious to

attain high political ofﬁce has, except in rare,

tidal, circumstances, had to work within the

conﬁnes of these parties.

It is not unusual that two parties should dom-

inate the history of a state but sheer ideological

incoherence in Ireland creates a gravitational

pull towards the centre and the parochial.

The crucible of the Civil War forged political

allegiances often owing more to personal loy-

alty than ideology. We see these tribal loyalties

passed down to descendants a century later.

There is little hope that its current incarna-

tion of Sinn Féin won’t bend their current

socialist leanings to political expediency. It

should be recalled that in 1969 the Provisionals

split with the Ofﬁcials over the former’s com-

mitment to the nationalist cause and the latter’s

attention to the workers’ struggle. The Ofﬁcials

became the Workers Party and then Democratic

Left. Sinn Féin became the political wing of the

nationalist Provisionals.

As a fundamentally nationalist party it is

unsurprising that Sinn Féin should in opposi-

tion seek radical economic redistribution but

risk, in the minds of the weary and the wise, a

deference to ‘economic realities’ on entering

government. Certainly its record in the Northern

Executive and opposition to a Property Tax in

the South, and its performance at local -author-

ity level, reveals pragmatic tendencies. That is

not to say that parties in coalition should never

make concessions to partners, but when a

movement’s core value is nationalism it is

always possible that commitment to social and

economic objectives may recede.

The Labour Party is the enduring mainstream

party of the Left. Before independence, leaders

such as James Connolly and James Larkin

argued in favour of radical wealth-redistribu-

tion in Irish society, but without a signiﬁcant

urban proletariat they could not muster a sub-

stantial opposition to the different hues of

green. As the state has developed the party has

grown unhealthily close to a ‘permanent and

pensionable’ civil service and other privileged

groups. Instructively, its core support is among

the wealthier denizens of South Dublin.

Contrast this with the UK where a radical poli-

tician such as Jeremy Corbyn can survive in the

broad left-wing church of a party of government

such as the Labour Party.

It has been argued that Ireland’s embracing

political climate shines favourably for foreign

investment but the absence of genuinely left-

wing administrations has delayed the arrival of

socialist measures found elsewhere in Europe

that could have alleviated the poverty that has

tainted the history of the Free State.

We have not seen a government like that of

the post-War Labour administration in the UK

which introduced the Welfare State and the

The crucible of the Civil

War forged political

allegiances often owing

more to personal loyalty

than ideology

2016 ELECTION

February 2016 15

NHS. For Ireland we see only an incipient vision

of universal health insurance.

An ideology of individual self-reliance has

tended to dominate especially as Sean Lemass’s

inﬂuence superseded de Valera’s peculiar

brand of peasant nationalism. The triumph of

individualism was epitomised by the ripping

out of Dublin’s tram tracks in the 1960s to make

way for the motor car. The economic planning

of the 1960s under the guidance of the almost-

universally lauded TK Whitaker amounted to a

liberal rationalisation of the economy. But it has

reached a point where maintaining the rate of

corporation tax at 12.5% in the face of criticism

from European partners seems to be the most

ﬁercely guarded part of our sovereignty, and

has been agreed to by all the main parties,

where the Taoiseach’s vision of his mission is

to make Ireland the best little country in the

world in which to do business.

Another problem in Irish politics is that the

abstraction of the wider culture permeates the

electoral system laid out under the Irish

Constitution. Our single-transferrable-vote pro-

portional-representation electoral system,

where 40 constituencies will elect 158 TDs,

gives an opportunity to independent chieftains

who jealously guard their generally rural

redoubts and show scant regard for the country

as a whole, let alone the wider world. Moreover,

in order to compete with independents, politi-

cians from the established parties must also

seek spoils for their constituencies: again

national issues fade in importance, and we

muddle on.

The election of 2011 was supposed to be a

watershed, but the parties originating in the

Sinn Féin movement of the early twentieth

century remain dominant, perhaps ever more

so if Labour suffers its predicted bashing.

Many countries have experienced far more

brutal recent political histories: a basic decency

ﬂows from Irish people that makes living in the

country tolerable, and even pleasurable,

despite exasperating inefficiencies and

inequalities.

But the want of direct talking, indeed serious-

ness, common in many parts of Europe, results

in stasis and ill-equips us for the long-term.

Writing in the Irish Times recently planning

consultant Diarmuid O’Gráda bemoans how the

Department of Environment has been incapable

of strategic planning: “it must be regretted that

the Custom House has not been associated with

evidence-based innovation since the 1980s

when the minister closed down its research

wing”.

Ireland confronts Climate Change with a

Green Party that is on the brink of extinction.

This is not entirely the fault of its well-inten-

tioned, if conservative, leadership. Most of the

population displays little support for environ-

mental regulation. We insist on one off housing,

private motor cars and pastoral agriculture, a

Tragedy of the Commons that generates high

energy costs and emissions.

Unlike John Moriarty most of us fail to climb

the mountain and see the whole picture.

Even after the experience of the Celtic Tiger

nothing meaningful has been done to curb

excessive property costs, the property-specu-

lator class or the deference to the rights of

property and ﬁnance.

It would be a sign of Ireland’s political matu-

rity if we elected parties with clearly delineated

ideologies.

It is difﬁcult to predict what

way Sinn Féin, Fianna Fail or

Fine Gael will swing if elected.

At least the Progressive Demo-

crats unashamedly spelt out

their liberal convictions, but

that appears to have been too

transparent for the Irish popu-

lation. Lucinda Creighton’s

Renua is seeking to inherit the

PDs' dark mantle but lacks the

authority and depth of a Dessie

O’Malley. The newly-formed

Social Democrats offer an inter-

esting new dimension on the

left as Labour ﬂounder, but

they are unlikely to be sufﬁ

ciently organised before the

election to win a substantial

number of seats. A broad alli-

ance of the Left excluding Sinn

Féin but including the Greens

would breathe fresh air into the

beleaguered body politic but

seems unlikely.

A simple electoral reform that could curb

aspects of the Tammany Hall excesses in Irish

politics would make it necessary, as is the case

in many European countries, for political par-

ties to achieve a minimum threshold of ﬁve

percent. The likes of Michael Lowry and the

Healy-Raes would hopefully disappear from

national politics, and politicians could start to

focus more on issues affecting the whole coun-

try rather than seeking to beat the offers of rival

local chieftains.

Any culture is in a constantly dialectical rela-

tionship with its social and physical

environment. In Joyce’s 'Ulysses' the character

of Stephen Daedalus muses that: “History is a

nightmare from which I am trying to awake”,

and often it seems this country is still in dream

where actions are taken haphazardly and

reactively.

But Irish culture has the capacity to change.

Post-colonial legacies fade in time and the

originality of the Irish Mind can be deployed

constructively.

A native crookedness can help us think later-

ally. Moreover, over ten percent of the

population living in the state were born else-

where, and in time they will exert more of an

inﬂuence. Most of the population have also

travelled widely and recognise better practice

in other countries

2016 could be a year of renewal in Ireland

when we start to think collectively and with a

view to the future. Ideally an older generation

of tired politicians will exit, with younger and

increasing female replacements. Radicalism, or

even ideology, may be too much to expect.