The scene is a funeral, many years ago, of a popular TD who
has died suddenly. His grieving widow and children are walking behind the
hearse. Senior party people, including a government minister, are also in the funeral
cortège. The minister remarks on the personal tragedy involved: a relatively
young man struck down in his prime, leaving a distraught family. A local party
activist, thinking of the impending by-election, whispers to a battle-hardened TD
from a neighbouring constituency about what the party might do. ‘Put up the widow,’
replies the TD, in a voice far from a whisper and in the hearing of the appalled
minister.
That battle-hardened TD had no time for personal sensitivities
when it came to political reality. The dynasty would live on and the Dáil seat
be retained because ‘the widow’ was the most electable of the available
candidates, partly on the basis of the inevitable sympathy vote. The journalist
who told me that anecdote observed that the TD, despite his gross
insensitivity, was doing no more than giving expression to a decision that had
already been made in principle back at party headquarters in Dublin. At
election time, particularly a by-election, the dynastic element can be a
powerful vote-getter. Dynastic politics is ingrained in Irish political life.
And nowhere more so than in Kerry, as Owen O’Shea illustrates in this
well-researched and absorbing read.
Politics can be a cruel trade, and dynasties sometimes find
themselves in a battle to preserve their patch. There were, no doubt, those who
considered themselves heir apparents and resented the automatic nomination of
the aforementioned widow all those years ago. Máire Geoghegan-Quinn, now EU
Commissioner, has recalled hearing the succession stakes being discussed at the
funeral of her father, Johnny Geoghegan TD for Galway West, when he died
suddenly in the 1970s. She went on to secure the nomination, win the seat, and serve
in government. But there was no family member to take her place when she later
retired from the Dáil and the dynasty petered out. Mind you, when she was appointed
EU Commissioner, she showed that dynasties can resurrect themselves in another role
far from the Dáil.
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| Dan Spring and Dick Spring |
While being the next in line in a political dynasty can be a
considerable advantage in securing election, voters then expect the new man or
woman to prove themselves. Electorates have no time for politicians living on
dynastic glories. Political dynasties can provide a remarkable local service when
there is a senior office-holder and a constituency manager involved. An example
of this was the period when Dick Spring was Tánaiste and his late sister,
Maeve, ran their Kerry North constituency office. At its height, it was arguably
the best-oiled political operation in the State.
Dynastic politicians have the advantage of tradition and
service and frequently dominate the party organisation and vote. I observed the
Haughey dynasty in Dublin North Central at the height of its powers, when
Charlie Haughey was Taoiseach in the 1980s. During an election tour of his
constituency, he mockingly referred to a poster of his running mate by asking
journalists to identify ‘that fellow’. ‘That fellow’ would win a second Fianna Fáil
seat, thanks in no small part to Haughey’s sharing of the vote, but Haughey was
making it clear to all within his hearing that his dynasty reigned supreme.
Indeed, such was his control of the vote at that time that his old political
enemy, Dr Conor Cruise O’Brien, used to refer to ‘that fellow’ as Haughey’s
‘human surplus’.
Dynastic politics is at Fianna Fáil’s core, probably because
it is the biggest party and has held power for such long periods. Its founding
father, Eamon de Valera, put in place a dynasty without peer, given that for
decades it included control of a powerful newspaper empire. The now defunct
Irish Press group was launched on the contributions of party supporters of
modest means, but ended up, in highly controversial circumstances, as a Dev family
business. Dev even appointed his son, Vivion, also a Fianna Fáil TD, as
Managing Director. Although the newspaper group is gone, the political dynasty
lives on, with Dev’s grandson, Eamon Ó Cuiv a member of the 30th Dáil.
The perks of dynastic politics can be considerable in certain
circumstances. Dev appointed Kevin Boland to the Cabinet on his first day in the
Dáil in 1957. This was because his old comrade, Gerry Boland, would only agree
to retire on the basis that his son took his place at the Cabinet table. There
was a time when the monarchical right of succession was not beyond being
invoked by those who considered themselves diehard Republicans when the prize
was coveted access to a State car. In 1994, the then Fine Gael Taoiseach, John
Bruton, appointed his brother, Richard, to the Rainbow Cabinet. It was a deserved
promotion, given Richard’s ability and experience. But had he been somebody
else of equal ability, and not a John-supporter in a heave sometime earlier,
would he have received the ministerial nod?
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| Michael Moynihan |
Dynastic politics and geography combined when Kerry South’s
Michael Moynihan was appointed a Minister of State by his party leader and
Kerry North neighbour, Dick Spring, in the FG-Labour Coalition in the 1980s.
Dynastic politicians are generally more streetwise than the political novice, whether
in the constituency or in party head- quarters. At the 1969 election, Labour headquarters
instructed that two candidates be run in each constituency, on the basis that the
party was on the brink of a significant electoral breakthrough. It was a
prescription for political suicide. Kerry North’s Dan Spring was one of those Labour
TDs intent on not committing political hara-kiri and resisted the move. As the promised
breakthrough turned to dust, he survived. He survived, too, in the aftermath of
the 1973-77 government when Labour luminaries like Dr Conor Cruise O’Brien and
Justin Keating, part of the so-called ministerial team of all the talents, lost
their seats.
Dynasties have to be careful about the indiscriminate crushing
of pretenders to the throne. Sometimes it is a better strategy to accommodate
them if room can be found on the party ticket. Jackie Healy-Rae was denied a
Fianna Fáil nomination in Kerry South in 1997, despite years of service to the
party and political skills honed in the legendary Neil Blaney-organised
by-elections of the 1960s. John O’Donoghue and Brian O’Leary, both dynastic politicians,
were the two candidates chosen. It was an astonishing electoral miscalculation by
party headquarters not to add Healy-Rae to the ticket. The rest, as they say,
is history. The three-man Healy-Rae operation now rivals any of the State’s political
dynasties.
Then there was the bitter parting of the ways between the Kerry
South Moynihan dynasty and Michael Gleeson, one-time heir apparent to the Dáil
seat secured by Michael Moynihan after several elections. Owen O’Shea quotes
some Kerry politicians who felt side- lined by political dynasties. But no
dynasty is unassailable. I vividly recall the 5am victory of Joe Higgins, from
Lispole, representing the Socialist Party, over Fianna Fáil’s EoinRyan in the Dublin
constituency in the 2009 European elections. Higgins, an outsider with limited
resources, ended that dynasty after a marathon count. The Ryans went back three
generations toDr Jim Ryan, who served in government with Dev and Sean Lemass.
 |
| Dan Moloney flyer |
As this book outlines, Kerry has produced some remarkable
women politicians over the decades. Some of them had to plough a difficult
furrow in those times when politics was male-dominated. Kay Caball’s telling
anecdote about Dev’s visit in the 1950s to the house of her father, Dan Moloney,
then Fianna Fáil TD for Kerry North, underlines the largely subservient role of
women in politics at that time, be it dynastic or otherwise. The local creamery
was opened up specially on a Sunday so that there was fresh cream for the
distinguished guest. She recalls her abiding memory of women fussing around the
kitchen getting things ready while the men sat around the table with Dev. That era
of extraordinary deference to a political leader, and the casting aside of women
to marginal roles, is gone. Kerry’s women politicians, past and present, have
played their role in ending it.
Kerry is ever-demanding of its politicians. ‘Is it because
we win so many All-Irelands?’ a weary Kerry politician, under pressure from his
constituents, asked me some years ago. It is more than that. Relative
geographical isolation, a magnificent landscape and literary success allied to
the sporting achievements have led to a strong pride in the Kingdom on the part
of its sons and daughters. This, inevitably, means that Kerry seeks high
returns from its elected representatives.
The story of Kerry’s political dynasties is truly remarkable.
It transcends the county, given that dynastic politics is a feature of public
life throughout Ireland. In that sense, this is a book, not only relevant to
Kerry, but also of national significance. The highs and lows, victories and
defeats, bitter in-fighting and fierce loyalties, are all there. And Owen O’Shea
goes onto reveal an international dynastic dimension. All politics is local,
but the local can travel. Daniel O’Connell, himself the founder of a political
dynasty, must be observing events with avid interest from that great parliament
in the sky.
Michael O’Regan is Parliamentary Correspondent of The Irish
Times and is a native of County Kerry.
