The untouchable Michael D and why politicians would be best advised to steer clear of Áras war

There’s reason to fear the President’s power

IT IS perhaps a measure of the unease that surrounds the invisible power of the Presidency that even Taoiseach Micheál Martin declined Gavan Reilly’s offer on Newstalk’s On the Record to debate the President’s criticism of his Government’s housing policies.

It is commonly believed that the strongest legislation protecting a monarch from criticism is in Thailand, where Section 112 of Thai Criminal Code warns that ‘Whoever defames, insults or threatens the king, the queen, the heirapparent or the regent, shall be punished with imprisonment of three to 15 years.’

Michael D Higgins may not have a Section 112. But as whispering cabinet ministers found out last week, anyone who criticises our popular 81-year-old President can face a backlash almost as ferocious.

But who are the ministers taking on, and are they wise to do so? Is it dangerous to take on Michael D Higgins?

One of the most intriguing aspects of our usually boisterous political life is the veneration given to the Presidency.

Nothing epitomises the reverence for the office – and by extension the incumbent – more than the response when Richard Boyd Barrett had the cheek to quote the

‘We do not drag him into controversy’

President’s views on housing on the floor of the Dáil last week.

Immediately, the Ceann Comhairle, Seán Ó Fearghaíl, began to cluck about how ‘there is an honourable and long tradition that we do not become involved in the analysis of or debate the statements of the President’.

Mr Ó Fearghaíl said: ‘I am not saying we cannot refer to the President, but we do not need to quote him. In this chamber, we do not drag the President into any controversy. Please respect that.’

He also warned the responding Minister that: ‘I will point out before the Minister responds that it is inappropriate in this House to analyse or critique any statement made by the President.’

But ironically, given the reverence for the office today, the Presidency began as a bit of an afterthought when Eamon De Valera back in 1937 decided to replace a British monarchy with an Irish one.

Canny old Dev, having had a look around the world at how democratically elected leaders behaved, decided our version would be a tame one.

The new President would never be let out politically.

There are only two specific powers that Presidents can exercise without Government clearance.

The first is that, after consulting the advisory Council of State, they can refer a draft law to the Supreme Court to test its constitutionality.

The second is that they can refuse to dissolve the Dáil in special circumstances.

For the rest, the President acts only ‘on the advice of the Government’.

Apart from that, the job mainly entails being nice to emigrants, giving OAPs their centennial bounty, and opening flower shows – essentially, behaving a lot like the queen of England.

A bonus task is uttering fine but non-threatening thoughts that make us feel better about ourselves and make us look respectable in the eyes of the world.

Cometh the non-job, cometh the man – for the 14 years at €250,000 a year (plus benefits). After a brief, 40-year political apprenticeship spanning much talking in the Seanad and the Dáil, few people have ever been better suited for the post of President than Michael D Higgins.

His qualifications included some well-intentioned poetry, a career as a sociology lecturer, and the subsequent 40 years of talking in Leinster House.

One anecdote illustrating Mr Higgins’ colourful style tells of how another TD ask Michael D why he brought in sheaves of paper, seeing as he never read from a script.

Michael D replied that the papers were ‘for waving about of course’.

Having become a specialist in grand words and fine sentiments, he has slotted in perfectly at Áras an Uachtaráin. Two Bernese mountain dogs completed the picture of the perfect President.

When it came to last week’s speech on housing, some Ministers responded quite dramatically.

There were dark mutterings about the separation of powers, about a souring of relations between the Áras and Leinster House, about lines being crossed and about a President standing on ‘high moral quicksand.’

Leo Varadkar reacted quite differently, and quite sensibly, with praise of the great speech, a couple of pats on the head and off you go now, Michael D.

The Tánaiste knows that you can never go too far wrong by stroking the ego of a great socialist.

For those people who want to make more of this affair, the best advice is that, in a contest of public hysteria or morality, Michael D punches well above his weight.

President Higgins has three more years as President. It might be foolhardy to annoy the Rip van Winkle of the Áras.

If the President were to get angry, it might become clear that the people prefer a risen Michael D to their current oppressors.