Though Kenny is far from gone, Fine Gael concentrates on future leaders

As sage voices in Fine Gael insist the Taoiseach is given space to manage his own exit, minds are concentrated on his successor. Sarah Carey considers the options

AS the lambing season takes off, the Irish Farmers’ Association has urged dog owners to make sure their pets are locked up at night. Any mutt will merge with a frenzied pack and tear a sheep to pieces. My uncle once found a ewe stuck in mud with half its face eaten off by a terrier.

So I winced in recognition and turned away as I listened to the hounds move in on the Taoiseach. When all pressure should have been on Noirin O’Sullivan, the media was — as usual — quickly sidetracked by the smell of political blood. Easier to pick off a tired Enda Kenny, befuddled over minor details, than to keep their eyes on the real issue.

As I’ve always made clear I thought Kenny’s critics, driven by their rage that he failed to fail, were far too hard on him. Indeed it feels unseemly to discuss successors before he makes any announcement. But as the sun begins to set on his reign, they’ve asked this blue shirt princess to analyse the Fine Gaelers facing off for the grand, if temporary, prize of the Taoiseach’s chair. Most likely, they’ll spend the next Dail in Opposition while a resurgent Fianna Fail returns to its apparently natural place in government.

Since superficiality counts for so much, let’s peruse the options. I love Simon Harris’s vitality but he’s still a little thin. Paschal Donohoe has overcome his boyish looks and lisp to impress as a minister in command of his brief, but has ruled himself out of leadership. I regret that Eoghan Murphy hasn’t had a higher public profile but I like his jawline and McDowell-like authority; though I wish he’d get rid of the beard.

I rule out Frances Fitzgerald myself. Her block colour suits have shielded her from the worst of the storm, but she bottled her shot at the big job of justice.

After Martin Callinan, the door was wide open to appoint his successor from outside the Garda Siochana and, even better, outside the country. While the usual buffers were placed between the interview panel and the minister, Fitzgerald must take responsibility for appointing O’Sullivan and thus perpetuating the disastrous rule of insiders.

And so to Simon and Leo. The two tall men left standing. In complete contrast to Kenny’s gregarious private persona, each is oddly shy in company. But it’s only the public persona that counts.

For after Kenny’s 15-year battering at the hands of the commentators, let’s not fool ourselves. The single most important quality in a leader is likeability. It ranks above intelligence, honesty, integrity, stamina and that vaguey vision thing we crave so much.

Just look at Micheal Martin. I’m congenitally predisposed to dislike Fianna Fail leaders but I can’t help being soft on him. He’s good-looking in a frail kind of way. He’s articulate and authoritative but not overbearing. He’s suffered loss and his sensitivity shows. He has a gentle manner, even if I don’t doubt his killer instincts. And though he must account for his senior membership of a party that bankrupts the country once a generation, he lacks the brutish irresponsibility of some of his forebears. In other words, he’s nice. This matters. First to Leo. Though some of my media colleagues insist that his sexuality is an issue I can with complete confidence disabuse them of the notion it’s a problem for his political future. Journalists who work on crude stereotypes of ultra-conservative Fine Gaelers baulking at a gay leader forget that the great liberal crusades were the work of that party, culminating in the enthusiastically fought marriage equality referendum.

Admittedly the canvass I took of rural Fine Gael supporters last week (from near and far afield) was small in number but vehement in its consistency. What matters is electability. Leo goes down well with the media. If anything, his homosexuality is an advantage with the Dublin liberals. If a vote were taken today, he’d win on those grounds alone.

For my own part, I couldn’t care less if he’s gay. But I have suspected him of not being straight.

In recent years his initial promising energy was eclipsed by his impatient ambition. The constant shadow of the hovering contender undermined confidence in Kenny’s leadership and thus the entire party. To be fair, he has behaved well during this government; perhaps a little more relaxed that his moment will come. But still. I didn’t approve of his manoeuvring.

As for his popular straight-talking, I can’t help recalling the fate of Michael Noonan and Pat Rabbitte. They seduced the media with one-liners but their confidence seeped out of them once they became party leaders. Sound bites are easy from the sidelines, but there’s no guarantee Leo’s smooth talking will survive promotion.

Despite these concerns I couldn’t get enthusiastic about Simon Coveney. With his political pedigree, education, capability and good looks, I never understood why he wasn’t more self-confident.

His media performances can be stilted and unnecessarily defensive. I often wondered if the insecurity originated in his entry into politics after his father’s premature death. He just didn’t have that smooth delivery that would charm a fickle electorate. But two things changed my mind recently.

First, I was told he’d actually overcome a stutter. That explained the hesitancy! But, secondly, a couple of weeks ago David McWilliams asked me on to his Sunday programme Agenda to comment on an interview he did with Coveney. I am so glad he did, because it was a revelation. McWilliams conducted one of the best political interviews I’ve seen in years. Most broadcasters consider a political interview to have but one purpose: humiliate and embarrass the politician. This compulsion has debased political discourse and poisoned the entire conduct of our democracy.

McWilliams did that rare thing: he engaged in a conversation, not an ambush. A set piece about the latest housing initiative blossomed into a high level and passionate argument by Coveney that a smart housing plan can ameliorate the negative effect of social class. He had enthusiasm, vision and an authentic belief in the power of public policy to make the country a better place.

Afterwards I was convinced more than ever that the media methods of abusing politicians have destroyed democracy just as surely as State-sponsored corruption and that Coveney really was that elusive thing: a visionary.

It consolidated my instincts: Coveney is the better man and a stronger character. A long campaign in which he can show us more of what I saw on Agenda would suit him.

My final word is to my media colleagues. Could they allow both men to finish sentences, articulate their ideas and allow us to learn something more about a future Taoiseach than the usual banalities? That would serve all of us, not just the Fine Gael party, well.

‘Coveney has an authentic belief in the power of policy to make Ireland better’