Forever in the shade?

Brian Cowen’s unblemished career to date does not guarantee him the top job in government — in fact, it could very well be his downfall, writes Political Reporter Paul O’Brien.

TRY to think of a blot on Brian Cowen’s career, and you could be racking your brains for a long time.

He escaped unscathed from the Department of Health — despite labelling it “Angola” because of its capacity to throw up landmines.

Others were not so lucky. Health, and more specifically, the hepatitis C scandal, did lasting damage to Cowen’s immediate predecessor at health, Fine Gael TD Michael Noonan. Health also scarred Cowen’s immediate successor, Micheál Martin, in the shape of the illegal nursing homes debacle, and is threatening to do the same to the incumbent, Mary Harney, because of the cancer-screening crisis.

By contrast, nothing stuck to Cowen. The same was true when he moved to foreign affairs. The Government lost the first Nice referendum when he was at Iveagh House, yet the stigma of such an embarrassing defeat did not attach itself to Cowen in the way it might have had another minister — Martin Cullen, say — been the person in charge.

Cowen has been finance minister since September 2004, and there has been no shortage of controversies involving the Government since then. Yet his individual record is practically unblemished. Why is this?

Cowen is an immensely capable politician who has deftly handled all his portfolios. His performances at individual departments have not been spectacular. What they have been is rock solid. He doesn’t chase glory by reaching for legacy-defining initiatives, but instead sails the proverbial steady ship. Even when problems arose, Cowen makes light of them — and opposition attempts to hammer him usually fail.

Indeed, yesterday’s budget, and the build-up to it, is an example of this. To see how, it is necessary to drift back to 2002. Prior to that year’s general election, Fianna Fáil promised there would be no cutbacks if it was returned to power. Following the election, however, it was a different story as the true picture of the ailing public finances emerged. Cutbacks were implemented and the December 2002 budget was the harshest in several years. A predictably enraged opposition had a field day, accusing the Government of lying to the public, and then finance minister Charlie McCreevy took the flak.

Fast-forward again, and prior to this year’s general election, Taoiseach Bertie Ahern delivered an ard fheis speech loaded with more presents than a toy store at Christmas. Shortly after the Government took power it became clear that the health of the economy was deteriorating, and in recent weeks, the message emanating from Government Buildings was that many of the election promises would simply not be met.

The opposition repeated its accusations of 2002 — namely that the Government and Mr Cowen concealed the true picture of the public finances and thereby misled the public. This time around, however, the opposition’s efforts were somewhat half-hearted, and their charges against Cowen, in particular, failed to gain much traction.

This was because Cowen had seen them coming a long way off, and manoeuvred accordingly. In virtually all his economic speeches prior to the election, Cowen made clear the Fianna Fáil spending promises were conditional on the public finances remaining healthy, and stressed repeatedly that, in the event of leaner times, the National Development Plan would be prioritised above all else. McCreevy fell into a trap of his own making; Cowen was never going to make the same mistake.

Such innate shrewdness has been a hallmark of his career. Add that to his intellectual ability, on which front he has few equals in the Dáil, his pragmatism, and his teak-tough nature, and you’ve got a formidable politician. Were opposition TDs to be surveyed on which Government figure they’d most like to have in their own party, it’s a safe bet that Cowen would top the list.

It is easy to see, then, why he is regarded as the leader in waiting of Fianna Fáil. There are other names bandied about, Micheál Martin and Dermot Ahern being two, and no one knows quite yet whether the Taoiseach’s endorsement of Cowen as his successor is a blessing or a curse. But the simple fact of the matter is that the next leader will be chosen by the Fianna Fáil parliamentary party, and right now, Cowen has the parliamentary party feeding out of his hand.

Its members credit Cowen with single-handedly pulling Fianna Fáil out of the mire during the election campaign, when the controversy over the Taoiseach’s personal finances threatened to drag down the party.

“He is seen as picking Bertie off the ground and revitalising him,” says one prominent FF TD. For that reason alone, Cowen cemented his status as the next leader. Before the election, it was seen within the parliamentary party as likely that Cowen would succeed Ahern.

“During the election, it became absolute,” says the TD.

The only question now is when it will happen — and on that front, one of the very few doubts about Cowen’s political temperament surfaces. While his unyielding loyalty to party and colleagues is widely admired, “many would feel it is to his detriment” too, according to a government colleague. “Those people would say he’ll never make a move against Bertie,” he adds.

The rump of frustrated backbenchers hoping Cowen is biding his time to stick the knife in Ahern’s back will wait in vain.

This is why talk of a heave against Ahern, despite his Mahon Tribunal travails, would seem premature.

The feeling among Fianna Fáil TDs is that Mr Ahern will remain until 2009 — although there is disagreement as to whether he will step down before or after that year’s local and European elections. The Taoiseach himself has indicated his intention to stay until 2011. And while this may seem unlikely, a transition at that point in time would create a poignant circumstance.

Cowen was first elected to the Dáil in 1984 in a byelection caused by the sudden death of his father Bernard, who represented Laois-Offaly as a TD and also served as a junior minister. Bernard Cowen was just 51 when he died. His son will be the same age if elected Taoiseach in 2011.

The extent to which such a circumstance would dwell on Cowen’s mind, or shape his thinking as Taoiseach, is best left to the amateur psychologists. The one thing that can be said for sure, however, is that while others assume he will one day be Taoiseach, Cowen does not — precisely because of his father’s death.

“I’m in politics because another person dropped dead,” he said in a Sunday Business Post interview two years ago. “I don’t get up in the morning wondering if I am going to ever be Taoiseach. Because my life experience has taught me... I forgot thinking about things like that a long time ago; a long time ago.”