Drugs and hypocrisy? TDs would never indulge... would they?

THE beginning of the crime debate saw TDs disappearing from the chamber as quickly as a gram of coke at a middle-class dinner party.

Just minutes earlier, cocaine had been buzzing through everyone’s brain, with the Ceann Comhairle ruling out of order a question from Simon Coveney demanding to know if the Taoiseach had investigated claims a minister had snorted the stuff. The allegation by an author promoting a new book gave no name or dates, but the link between the Class A drug and politicians is obvious, as coke is well known to make the user talk repetitive, boring nonsense, usually about themselves.

White knight Deputy Coveney refused to be put off his line of questioning, insisting the unknown minister stated “he takes coke regularly and was certainly not the only one around here who does”.

To which the newly appointed Ceann Comhairle, clearly bemused at some of the antics he has had to preside over, shot back: “That has occurred to me at times, to be honest with you,” before blocking the FG TD’s one-man drug test.

With the effects of Mr Coveney’s stimulating intervention wearing off fast, TDs scampered away for other highs, leaving just six in the chamber for the set-piece crime action — and, as three of those had no choice in the matter due to being the justice spokespeople of their parties, it was an even more pitiful sight than it sounds.

Things perked up a bit after lunch as events were soon hijacked by several TDs suffering an overdose of Charlie on the floor of the chamber. Yes, Dublin West TD Charlie O’Connor had launched into one of his mind-bendingly hallucinogenic eulogies to the cradle of human achievement — Tallaght.

Charlie’s localised form of Tourette’s, in which no sentence is complete without at least three mentions of Tallaght, ricocheted around the Oireachtas with dizzying, discombobulating speed.

Incoming Justice Minister Brian Lenihan gave a look of benign indulgence as Charlie consumed everyone’s attention, but then, if Michael McDowell liked to think of himself as the iron fist of Irish law and order, his successor prefers to administer the kind of justice that is cloaked in a velvet glove.

Or as Pat Rabbitte put it in his first big outing as Labour’s shadow justice minister, Mr McDowell would provoke, whereas Mr Lenihan prefers to smother critics in sweetness.

“When frustrated that he could not catch criminals, Mr McDowell expressed the intention to get his hands on the opposition. We now have a minister who has a far more soothing approach and will go forward on the basis that he feels our pain and will pour treacle on all these issues,” said Mr Rabbitte in his first sting as a very active wasp.

Say what you like about Mr McDowell presiding over the bloodiest year in the history of the State since the Civil War during his last 12 months at the Justice Department, but he is currently a shining example of rehabilitation into the real world of someone banged-up and institutionalised in the Dáil for a five-year stretch.

The former tánaiste is repaying any debt society may feel he owes to it by having his hands full of women’s cardigans at the Four Courts where he is prosecuting a clothing copyright case.

Justice for all.

Back in the Dáil, Mr Coveney was still demanding the Taoiseach investigate his front bench for drug abuse (“So, ministers, next on the Cabinet agenda: your urine samples please...”). The Cork TD warned failure to do so would lead to charges of hypocrisy.

Drugs and hypocrisy? Surely we all know our deputies would never deal in either.