Winning takes many forms
EVEN two weeks away from the polling day, it is completely safe to say that Dana Rosemary Scallon will not be elected president. If she were to address the issue soberly, she would probably admit she never really believed she would.
As it stands Dana is in danger of failing to reach the threshold required to reclaim election expenses, which run into hundreds of thousands of euro. Anything below a quarter of a quota will leave her badly out of pocket. The opinion polls suggest she is in danger zone, but that can change.
Fellow independents Mary Davis and David Norris could be in the same territory if either or both have a really bad election. But at least that pair were in it for the long haul, effectively electioneering six months ago.
Dana, by contrast, just popped up on September 19 and said she was taking off on her second tilt at the presidency. Experience must have told her that if an independent was to have a chance, she had to have a whole machine in place and well oiled months in advance of polling day.
Rumours of her interest in running surfaced in early September, around the same time that her kindred spirit Labhrás Ó Murchú indicated his intention to run. The Fianna Fáil senator shares Dana’s so-called family values, including a strict anti-abortion stance. Once it became apparent Ó Murchú was not going to go ahead, and that Fianna Fáil was unlikely to field a candidate, an opportunity opened up for Dana.
By mid-September, David Norris looked to be out of the game and Sean Gallagher was doing poorly at the polls. Apart from the conservative family values vote, Dana was in a position to capitalise on the anti-European sentiment abroad in the country at the moment. The pro-life crowd are also euro-sceptic, although for social, rather than economic, reasons.
She achieved her nomination with ease, pulling in the vote of four local authorities in a matter of days. This rush by councillors to support her contrasted sharply with the slog Norris had to put in, and gave lie to the pro-life lobby’s cry that they are not represented in politics.
She has beaten the odds before. In 1997, she became the first independent candidate to generate support for her nomination from local authorities. She defied the pundits to get the nomination and defied the odds to finish third in a field of five. The headwind generated by her run was enough to propel her into the European Parliament two years later as a member for Connacht Ulster. That was the pinnacle of her political career. She failed to get re-elected and failed in a run at the Dáil in the 2002 general election. Now she’s back.
On the stump, there is a deep well of affection for the former Eurovision singer. Where others kiss babies, Dana has hugs, kisses, pats cheeks and extends a hand on the arm for all comers. She doesn’t canvass so much as engage. The touchy-feely approach is complemented by a face that is etched permanently with concern. Say what you like about Dana, but she feels pain on the stump like no other candidate.
Killing a few hours before her appearance on the Today FM presidential debate, her small team escort her along Dublin’s O’Connell Street. Among her coterie are a number of faces familiar from pro-life gatherings down the years.
A man recognises her. “Don’t surrender,” he tells her. Dana places her hand on his arm, thanks him and offers a leaflet. “I don’t need a leaflet,” he says, and wishes her well.
Unlike other candidates she is not stingy with her time, even to those without a vote, like the surfeit of tourists she encounters. One woman from Manchester says she has no vote, but she’d love a picture.
Another woman moves loudly into the candidate’s orbit, pushing a buggy. “Hi Dana, I’m going to vote for you because you’re pro-life.” Dana thanks her. A few minutes later the woman has donned a Dana T-shirt and is chatting to other campaigners in a manner that suggests they are not strangers.
On Liffey Street, two young men who say there are student priests of the Dominican order approach and wish her well.
Whatever about the values, family plays a large role in her campaign. Her husband Damien Scallon and brother John Brown are at the heart of the operation. The story about her legal fallout with her sister prompted her to threaten to exit the race if the media didn’t back off. Yet the substance of the inquiry was perfectly legitimate.
The case involved a dispute over money concerning a company involved in religious recordings, which shows her notion of a religion in a different light. The judge in the case expressed scepticism about the accuracy of her sworn testimony. There was also material about her US citizenship, which she has since put to bed.
Is she onto a loser? Only if victory is expressed in terms of election. What she can achieve is to rally support to the family values standard, on the back of the euro-sceptic sentiment that is felt throughout the land.
Were she to poll anything over 12.5%, she would recoup her outlay, and could certainly feel satisfied that she has once again struck a blow for a constituency that portrays itself as excluded from the mainstream.



