Time will tell the truth of Leo’s legacy. But here’s a first draft
tician. As a new TD in 2007 he was unusually articulate and assertive — aggressive even. Where others danced around issues, Varadkar was willing to attack government politicians in what others at the time saw as being a personal rather than political way.
He labelled then tánaiste Mary Coughlan “Calamity Coughlan”, and accused her of hiding behind her sex and age.
He was a straight-talker. On media he could cut through the bland talking points and deliver a blunt assessment, something that senior people in Fine Gael soon came to appreciate.
He was also the most clearly right wing of what was a new “golden generation” of Fine Gael politicians. He wanted prisoners to pay for their bed and board. His call for the repatriation of unemployed immigrants led to charges of racism. He warned against civil partnership for same-sex couples.
Varadkar was central to the failed coup to remove Enda Kenny and he had been critical of Kenny’s leadership. The party was behind Labour in the polls and he felt Kenny was a factor. On RTÉ’s Prime Time, he openly questioned Kenny’s judgment and his ability to deal with a crisis.
Despite this, Varadkar was one of the indispensable talents that Kenny not drop when he defeated that leadership coup in 2010. And when Kenny took Fine Gael to record electoral success, Varadkar was brought into cabinet.
He remained outspoken, sometimes too outspoken — at one stage suggesting Ireland might need a second bailout — but he was a competent minister, and one who was willing to stray off his own departmental brief.
Varadkar was one of the few to take Garda Sergeant Maurice McCabe’s allegations of corruption seriously.
In Health, Varadkar was pragmatic (if lacking ambition) when he abandoned plans for universal health insurance. Health is a difficult department, where much can go wrong, but Varadkar was careful. He emerged unscathed, if the health service remained untransformed.
After Fine Gael’s poor result in the 2016 general election, Varadkar was one of those who thought opposition might suit Fine Gael, and when a government was finally formed, he refused to return to Health. He instead took over at Social Protection, where he again burnished his rightwing credentials with a campaign that “welfare cheats cheat us all”.
It was pure Fine Gael, and would play well in a leadership contest. Varadkar was hardly content to wait for that contest. Many of Varadkar’s supporters openly questioned Enda Kenny’s leadership. When Kenny succumbed to that pressure, Varadkar’s campaign was a whirlwind.
Running against the more patrician Simon Coveney, if Fine Gael TDs or senators had wondered who could win them their seats, the Varadkar campaign removed any doubts. He was the one who could run a campaign, the clear electoral asset. His elevation to Taoiseach saw an extraordinary reaction in the international press. His youth and being the openly gay son of an Indian immigrant seemed to embody what was good about modern Ireland. At home he was a celebrity. Fine Gael jumped in the polls. People flocked to him. There was a genuine Leo mania.
But the business of governing was harder. He had no majority, and being unusually cautious, he kept most of his cabinet in place. The confidence-and-supply agreement with Fianna Fáil meant he had less room to manoeuvre than most taoisigh.
His leadership slogan, to deliver a “Republic of Opportunity”, remained that — a slogan. His government took most of its ideas from the opposition.
Brexit meant he had one big issue on his agenda. He continued the policy of having the EU represent Ireland’s interests. In doing so, he made statements that made him a hate figure among Brexiteers. Comical as they were, the episode showed he lacked sensitivity to genuine unionist fears.
And his own party feared they were sold a pup. He was drifting away from Fine Gael. It was like he became the leader the international press thought he was.
If the fear in Fine Gael was that he was a better campaigner than leader, in reality he was neither. A series of by-election defeats could be excused as anti-government squalls. But the 2020 election was another disaster. It was clear that the public had fallen out of love with Leo. The last electoral campaign he successfully led was his own leadership election.
The Covid crisis saw him step up, but even then, you got the sense that he soon lost interest. Handing over the reins to Micheál Martin might have given him a chance to reboot. On returning to the taoiseach’s job in late 2022, he seemed even less interested.
Having worked so hard to become Taoiseach, once he had the job Varadkar didn’t know what to do with it.
Though he claimed a series of achievements last week, many sounded like a left-wing wish-list. The former true blue conservative may have become more liberal, and even moved to the left, but he was never “one of them” — so progressive movements couldn’t support him, even when he delivered what they had demanded.
The Taoiseach was self-aware enough to see that he had become a liability for Fine Gael, and direct enough to do something about it.
From this vantage point, it would be difficult to argue that there is a “Varadkar’s Ireland”.
Though he took over at a time the economy was doing well, he lacked ambition. He was competent at dealing with some of the problems the country faced, but it is more difficult to say he shaped the country.
Eoin O’Malley is associate professor of political science at DCU