‘Icancomplain, orIcangetoffmybum’
AMID REPORTS OF ABUSE, MIA FAHEY MCCARTHY STAYS FOCUSED ON HER MOTIVATION
IT’S not what anyone would call a welcoming time to be in politics — especially if you are a woman. There has been a spate of abuse and threats against candidates in next month’s elections. An Oireachtas taskforce headed by former garda commissioner Nóirín O’Sullivan concluded last week that “abuse in political life is prevalent, problematic and targeted disproportionately at women and minority groups”.
In the past few months alone, homes of politicians including Roderic O’Gorman, Simon Harris and Helen McEntee have been targeted. Former taoiseach Leo Varadkar has been verbally abused on the street. Independent candidate Saoirse McHugh tweeted last weekend: “I had the most scary interaction with a man while out canvassing today. So much hate and conspiracy theories have spread through communities in the last few years.”
And all that’s before you get to the torrents of online abuse meted out on a daily basis. Why would anyone seek to enter politics when abuse from the public is almost a given?
So what would motivate a woman to enter the fray now, for the first time? And what is the experience on the ground like?
In Wicklow town, on a blustery weekday evening, Mia Fahey McCarthy of the Green Party tells me: “People have legitimate reasons for being angry with politicians — me putting myself forward is me wanting to be one of those politicians who would listen to people and take on board what they say. But I do enjoy it. It’s the one opportunity where there’s space to make a connection with someone.”
The former journalist, who now works as the head of sustainability for an energy company, is putting in plenty of shoe leather. The first-time candidate has left her threeyear-old daughter with her mother while she canvasses.
On a leafy housing estate that overlooks the sea, some residents take a leaflet politely, not caring to profess a political affiliation, and nod at Fahey McCarthy’s offer to contact her with any queries or issues.
Others are coming in from work, and are not inclined to chat. Of those who do want to engage, school dinners and transport links to Wicklow and Dublin get a mention, as do speed bumps and traffic lights.
Elsewhere, one middle-aged man closes the door on us with a brisk: “No, thank you.”
Fahey McCarthy is unruffled. “You just have to brush it off,” she says, before striding to the next house. “Not every party is for every person. When it gets into personal attacks, rather than attacking the party or attacking the politics, I think we’re going down a dangerous road.”
Fahey McCarthy cites a desire to improve her local area as her main motivation. “You can give out and complain about things, and you think, ‘Well, I can do that or I can get off my bum’,” the Green candidate says. “From a selfish point of view, it’s about wanting it to be in a nice place to live, but wanting that for the community as well.
“I don’t see this as a stepping stone into national politics; given that climate we’re in, a lot of people who may have thought about going into politics are probably having a rethink about that.”
But reluctant or hostile voters are not the only obstacles that female political newcomers face.
“It would be great if all of these systems made things easier for women to work within — looking at when meetings are held,” says Fahey McCarthy. “Even with canvassing, people recommend going out four to five days a week, but as a woman, there are a lot of other responsibilities that fall on your shoulders. It’s not as easy to pick up and head off. There’s something innate in us that we don’t do that. For a lot of women that I’ve spoken to, they’re not out canvassing as much as their male counterparts.”