Tánaiste slices life out of parliamentary democracy

LIKE the old ladies cackling as they did their knitting at the foot of the guillotine in revolutionary France, Mary Coughlan cut an unrepentant figure as she sliced the life out of parliamentary democracy.

The Tánaiste was unashamedly brazen about her regime’s use of the lethal Dáil device to cut off debate on 16 different bills in the past week as it rushed through often highly contentious legislation before the TDs’ two-month holidays kick-off today.

Now this might – might – be excusable if the Dáil had been working flat out for the past year, but as it actually had to shut down for several hours the other week because it had completely run out of anything to talk about, and is – by international standards – little more than a rubber stamp, part-time joke parliament at the best of times, this brutal wielding of the executive knife to silence debate is certainly not acceptable.

While the Tánaiste was in charge of the guillotine, it was the Labour members who were losing their heads.

First, party leader Eamon Gilmore usurped the role of the leader of the opposition Enda Kenny to rise first during order of business and attack the Government’s attitude, much to Enda’s embarrassment

Then, there appeared to be an internal party coup as Ciarán Lynch bundled Mr Gilmore out of his seat and left him sitting uneasily on the steps of the chamber while the Cork TD took command of the Dáil.

Now, Mr Lynch is nothing if not ambitious, but such an early run for the leadership took many by surprise.

It came about because the Ceann Comhairle could not call him to speak from the “invisible” row of seats placed before the front benches.

Mr Lynch then scrambled to the nearest perch from which he could be called, which just happened to be Mr Gilmore’s.

The flustered looking Labour leader tried to move to his left (ironic really since he has been moving steadily to the right since his days in Sinn Féin – The Workers Party), but deputy leader Joan Burton was refusing to do likewise as the row was full.

This then led to a Labourite Laurel and Hardy moment as Messrs Lynch and Gilmore were both squeezed into one berth until Eamon did the decent thing and gave way, taking up an unbecoming perch on the stairs.

Much opposition jeering about Mr Lynch being the “real Labour leader” ensued and may have gone to the Cork TD’s head because he nestled comfortably back into the leader’s chair after speaking, causing the real leader to give him a gentle nudge to get him back out of it again.

But good old Enda had other things on his mind, namely how journalists have been evacuated from Leinster House due to the risk of the press gallery floor collapsing, but the authorities have not found a suitable alternative for them.

“There is always Doheny and Nesbitts,” heckled one Fianna Fáil TD referring to the popular nearby bar. TDs giving out to journalists about their drinking? Glasshouses, kettles, stones and pots all come flooding to mind.

The Tánaiste then gave an unusually accurate reply noting that there were 137 reporters in the press gallery. Prompting the question: how come she knows that figure exactly, yet not how many commissioners each EU nation has?

Surely she’s not more concerned with spin than substance?

We never found out, she cut off the debate with her guilty little guillotine.