Dáil break won’t help Martin escape turmoil
‘THAT’S the thing about bloody annual holidays. You spend a whack of money heading off somewhere, all-out to enjoy yourself. But the great untold secret is that it so rarely works.’’
A man I know, who says he knows nearly everything, was sounding off, as is his wont. “The thing is, you have to bring your head with you, and even more importantly, all that’s inside it,” he explained.
“Think of the stress involved in transporting all your worries, agitations and angst to some foreign place. It’s going to take more than a few bottles of sauvignon blanc and a Mediterranean heatwave to keep those at bay.
“The bottom line is this going on holiday lark is classic illusion masking reality. You’ll get a few fleeting moments of mental ease here and there. But that’s just an incidental bonus. Our demons follow us everywhere,” said this man, who says he knows nearly everything.
And so with such musings in mind, our thoughts turn to those politicians who, with the Dáil in downtime, are aching to break from the ever-spinning whirligig that is their lot. One who would certainly embrace some quality down-time is Fianna Fáil leader Micheál Martin. He is playing the most stressful role of all in the Leinster House drama. For him, the sheer thankless grind is beyond wearisome.
This confidence and supply gig – keeping Varadkar and Co in power – is an ongoing nightmare. Yet, because Fianna Fáil is stuck in the infernal opinion polls, there’s no hope for a change of fortune on the horizon. All he can do is go on ferrying Leo around on his shoulders. It allows Varadkar to bask in the plaudits for any kudos going. But Martin, ground down by the weight and thanklessness of it all, must plod onwards. Much of his waking hours can but be spent wondering when this burden will be removed.
In fairness, the Fianna Fáil leader is trying might and main in reminding us he is doing the very best he can in straightened circumstances. And he keeps telling us the limitations of Leo. He dismisses him as a spin merchant who can’t confront the twin challenges of health and housing. He suggests he is Taoiseach by default, just lucky the ball bounced his way in a topsy-turvy Dáil.
As the summer hiatus hits its peak, Martin claims yet again that he is doing the right thing by the country. But little acknowledgement has he got from those ruling the roost. Instead, Fianna Fáil has to be ever-alert for ‘gamesmanship and one-upmanship’ by the Government.
However, despite his rage with the way things are, he knows that, come the autumn, he will have no choice but to continue lumbering Leo around on his shoulders.
The opinion polls, for which he expresses predictable disdain, leave him with no choice. The truth of the matter is that as of now he simply has no cards to play.
MARTIN is long enough in the game to know he is snookered. It won’t take too many moments of introspection on his summer break to remind him yet again that all he can do is play for time. Given his predicament, he may even feel the gods just might owe him one.
The numbers are better for Leo
and his gang. But when everything is added up, it remains a zero-sum game for both Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil. A nod and wink in the direction of Mary Lou as a potential lifesaver may have possibilities for Varadkar. But this could also drag him into a tunnel of darkness.
The bottom line is that Martin must bring all that inner turmoil with him wherever he goes this summer. The burden of heaving Leo around is not going to get any easier. And as he takes time out, there’s always a whiff of unease that some of his trusty lieutenants might be thinking unthinkable thoughts. Frustration in the beating heart of Fianna Fáil can be a time-bomb.
But be all that as it may, he should still ignore high-pitched clamouring from the sidelines, suggesting he has various options at his disposal. He hasn’t. The only thing he can do is hang in there, hoping some unknown unknowns will bring Leo and his cabal to heel.
In the interim, there may be some unintended consolation from hard-pressed Kerry football manager Eamonn Fitzmaurice. He too is riddled with suggestions as to what he should do to face down some of his critics. Should he embrace this new-fangled sweeper system or not? “You’re damned if you do and you’re dammed if you don’t,” he says. That man who says he knows nearly everything could not agree more.
Come autumn, he will have no choice but to continue carrying Leo on his shoulders