An ending Higgins the poet didn’t see coming

IN the official polling notice published in the national press at the outset of the presidential campaign, all the candidates list their names, addresses and occupations.

Michael D Higgins has two occupations, according to the notice. He is a “lecturer” and is a “poet”. What more could you want in a president?

For at least a month up until last weekend, the election was Higgins’s to lose. Now he looks like he may be in danger of doing just that.

On the face of it, this election was made for him. With an anti-politician sentiment simmering throughout the country, Michael D had the best of both worlds. He is exper-ienced in government and well versed in the Constitution, while at the same time able to affect the air of an outsider. Vote for him and you are voting not for a politician, but a poet.

Unlike Gay Mitchell, Michael D can call on the full backing of his party. For many therein, he is regarded as the conscience of Labour. Throughout his career he has espoused the kind of radical stance which prompted huge numbers within the party to get involved in their youth. And while most of them shed their radical skin over the years, in the name of realpolitik, Higgins has retained his. They admire him hugely in the party, but there is no way they would ever have elected him leader. In that regard, he is the party’s perfect candidate for president.

Surprisingly, the Labour Party was not his first political home. His father had taken the republican side in the Civil War and found himself out of a job as the smoke settled on the new Free State. His health declined and he died prematurely.

Michael D was sent to live with an aunt in Co Clare. He might never have made it into third-level education but for the intervention of a benefactor who saw great potential in him.

In University College Galway, he joined Fianna Fáil, the natural home for the son of somebody who had fought with Dev in the Civil War. His switch to Labour was inspired by Noel Browne, the former minister credited with eradicating TB in Ireland.

He ran unsuccessfully in two general elections before being appointed to the Seanad in 1973. He made it into the Dáil in 1981, but lost again two years later, before being re-elected in 1987 and holding his Galway West seat until he retired from the Dáil in February.

He served as arts minister for five years in the 1990s and was in charge when Telefís Na Gaeilge (now TG4) was launched. His performance in the portfolio drew plaudits from all quarters, which was a surprise to Des O’Malley for one, who famously declared that Michael D would “go mad in government”.

Away from politics he has published three volumes of poetry, engaged in extensive human rights campaigning, and penned a long-running column in Hot Press.

In an election where celebrity endorsements have featured in the campaigns of Mary Davis and Martin McGuinness, Michael D can boast that he is getting the nod from another president — Martin Sheen.

He is 70 now, and his age has featured as an issue. The perception of frailty — and it is only a perception — has been boosted by a limp. On the other hand, that injury was sustained on a recent visit to a remote corner of Colombia, which illustrates his vibrancy.

He hasn’t set the stump alight, but there is considerable regard and affection for him out there. On a recent canvass of the Square in Tallaght there was a queue of shoppers lined up to meet him.

One man walked up, tapped the candidate on the shoulder and wished him well. Presumably he would be giving his No 1 to Michael D?

“Well no, I’m voting for the other man (McGuinness), but I’ll give him a number 2.”

The same day he met a number of shoppers from the west, all of whom pledged loyalty to the local man.

And there he was, up until last week, cruising towards the Áras. He hadn’t done anything to inspire, played a safe game in the debates, steered clear of any controversies. Yet the opinion poll has him trailing Sean Gallagher.

It’s still all to play for. He could wipe the floor with Gallagher in writing poetry, or even debating the Constitution, but the whims of the electorate may be focused on other issues.

In the throes of a gruelling campaign, Michael D is beginning to look his age and the electorate could read this in two ways.

He may fit the template of learned elder statesman, well suited to represent the auld sod at home and abroad.

Or he may come across as aping some of the previous incumbents of the office, when the Áras was regarded as a nice retirement home for prominent politicians after decades in the seat of parliament.

Which of these views is ultimately taken by the voters may well determine whether or not Michael D makes it past the winning post on October 27.