People before politics — let's not get carried away just yet

BY Tony Galvin THE most striking aspect, for me, of the past week's political pantomime was its irrelevance. I write this more in sadness than in anger. My bread and butter is political intrigue, internecine squabbling, outside chances and the whiff of cordite in the air once an election is called. But this time out, as BB King would sing, the thrill is gone.[private] The press conferences, the â€Ëœwill he, won't he' commentaries that would once have had me sitting on the edge of my couch, arguing with the TV screen, fail to elicit even a glimmer of excitement any more. This is way too serious for enjoyment. The electorate, myself included, are not in the mood for sport. The mood of the times is captured perfectly when a Taoiseach, who a few days ago was battling to lead his party into an election, who now appears to be letting it be known that he can't even be bothered running in the same election himself. The electorate know how you feel, Taoiseach. This time, we've all had enough. While commentators of all hues are busy hammering out copy on keyboards and filling the airwaves with their views, there is for once a tangible air of uncertainty clinging to their outpourings. We simply can't call this one because we have no experience to fall back on. We're in virgin territory here. We're no longer the players we fancied ourselves to be. We're just observers and participants, shocked survivors of the wrecked ship of Irish democracy, hoping for change for the better, like everyone else. May you live in interesting times, is an old Chinese saying. I feel like adding interesting ok, but not this bloody interesting. They say news is the first draft of history but what we are enduring right now is history in the making, and history comes down to Churchill's definition, 'one damn thing after another'. On Monday I spoke to a fair few politicians in the course of my day job and while there is a certain wariness to them, I still got the feeling that most of them haven't grasped the fact that the game has changed. There's a perception still among them that once the electorate's blood lust is satiated, we'll go back into our caves and things will continue, much as before. It's as if many politicians and even more of my media colleagues are living in some twilight zone. We know something is different, some big shift has taken place, but if we ignore it, things will go back to the cosy way things were. They're wallowing in their incompetence and irrelevance and the likes of me poking fun at their expense. Sure why would we want to change? There is a seething, poisonous anger abroad all right, but how this will translate in electoral terms remains to be seen. If it results in even more disillusionment with politics and a high rate of abstention, it could just mean the perpetuation of the status quo, more Civil War musical chairs. A very low turn out will suit the established parties, especially Fianna Fail, in their efforts to maintain a nucleus, on which to rebuild. A high turn out will provide an opportunity for all sorts of independents, from the ideologically committed to the village idiot. Those who have been out canvassing for a while are convinced that it will be a high turn out, even with a large number of disillusioned Fianna Fail supporters staying away from the polls. Personally I think there are two main engines of change. The first, and most important, is the previously mentioned savage anger of the populace. There is a palpable desire for real change and real leadership. This election is giving parliamentary democracy one last chance to reform itself before many give up on it. Then we'll really be in 'Michael O'Leary should run the country' territory. The other engine of change is social media. The media can no longer be controlled through corralling a few favoured journalists in the Dáil bar, and reaching a consensus on what the issues are. This election, I expect, will see citizen journalism muscle its way into the mainstream debate. It may be crude and amateurish to begin with, but it will be established, and once this genie is out there'll be no getting it back in the bottle. The days of sitting on stories or accepting spin, without being challenged, are numbered. This has gone way past some looper writing letters to the editor in green biro. Mainstream media is still hogtied by draconian defamation laws, which can punish us disproportionately for the slightest mistake or perceived slight. But social networking sites, Twitter, Facebook and the like, are a whole new ballgame. But it's like the world has moved on and no one has told our politicians and some of the mainstream media about it. The headline-making events of the past weeks could have been clips from <I>Reeling in the Years<I>. The suits, the haircuts, the language is the same. The setting hasn't changed; the media reporting is locked in the same time warp. It's as if the society-changing events of the past few decades never permeated down as far as the political sphere. We have seen a revolution in communications, our society is transformed beyond recognition, our electorate are way more savvy, cynical and educated than when Charlie Haughey was telling us we were living beyond our means. But in the fantasy world of Irish politics, everything remains the same. It's like one of those John B Keane plays that can't be put to rest because a sprinkling of amateur dramatic societies insist on re-staging them every year. Those who control the television of the Dáil are instructed not to present wide-angle views of the chamber when it's empty. To maintain the illusion of a participatory democracy, a few spear-carriers generally group themselves around any Minister addressing the chamber. It's intended to convey the illusion of a packed Dáil. All it is is a stage-managed farce, one step short of blending the speaker with a digitalised image of all 166 TDs present, just as they do for galactic battle scenes in films. The sad part of this is the media go along with it. And why wouldn't we, it's what we know. What we're comfortable with. We're even repeating the old 'new blood is needed' palaver. We have Conor Lenihan passing himself of as a spokesperson for new blood when in fact all he and his ilk represent is the age old struggle between ambition and established experience. Replacing old farts with younger farts is still not going to result in the Dáil chamber smelling of roses. My hope is to see legions of new faces in the new Dail. Note I say new, not young. An infusion of radically minded politicians might inject some life into that moribund institution, resulting in a government of the people, by the people, and for the people, for the first time in the history of the country, never mind the state. History tells us that they will have a few good years before they too settle in, become smug and complacent and indistinguishable from the shower about to be dumped. But that, like the bankers' debts, is for future generations to deal with. â€Â¢ â€Â¢ â€Â¢ Plato's solution THE great philosopher Plato bequeathed a template to the world, to which we might consider reverting today. In his seminal work The Republic he argued that the selection of politicians could not be left to such an arbitrary process as elections or chance. Instead bright young men (sorry, ladies) were selected and spent something like 30 years studying in the groves of academe, until they were ready to take up their positions in the Senate. Now here is the interesting part. These chosen ones were forbidden to own any property, not a system that would immediately appeal to Frank Fahey. The State would provide for all their worldly needs and keep them in a degree of comfort befitting their status. In addition, they were forbidden to marry, lest their domestic situations distract them from their onerous duties. However, recognising that such a situation could prove difficult for Senators with toga-zipper problems, the State also undertook to provide them with female company and, if I remember correctly, to look after the offspring of such unions. The property element might prove a stumbling block today but wine, women and song on the State's tab could prove a winner. Let's look outside the box here, folks. Think what we would save on tribunals. Again stretching the memory, I think the rest of the Republic was divided into wealth creators and soldiers and the whole thing depended on slaves (that's PAYE workers to you) to keep it all propped up. 2,000 plus years on, there really is nothing new under the sun. â€Â¢ â€Â¢ â€Â¢ Quote of the Week '...And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change. Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap, the one in fear to lose what they enjoy, the other to enjoy by rage and war. These signs forerun the death or fall of kings. Farewell.' â€â€ William Shakespeare, Richard II [/private]