Aoife Moore: Our three-headed Government is still tone-deaf after Golfgate
Katherine Zappone was to be given a plum job in the UN that the Government claimed no one else would have wanted â 'a 13 or 15 grand role' that would apparently be considered small change to those who appointed her. Zappone later announced she would not be taking up the position.
Everything and absolutely nothing. Last summer, we were on the crest of another wave of Covid-19. The pandemic that had ravaged our mental and physical health showed no signs of abating and we were warned it could be years before a vaccine became available.
Golfgate solidified for many what they had always thought, itâs âone rule for us, one rule for themâ. Others felt let down and disappointed, that those they had entrusted to make the rules would follow them too.
It wasnât the first time the great and the good of the Oireachtas failed to read the mood of the public, the Irish people have been to this particular race on a number of occasions.
Whether itâs childrenâs shoes or water charges, successive Irish governments have consistently overlooked or underappreciated the publicâs justifiable anger, in turn aggravating the Irish people further.
Back in July 1981, the public was presented with what some described at the time as the âtoughestâ budget in the history of the state by the Fine Gael/Labour coalition government and by January 1982 it became evident the goodwill of the independents and the public, both of which were essential, were no longer available, as more cuts and taxes appeared on the horizon.
Raising the VAT on childrenâs shoes among other items were included in the budget, and when the first vote was taken on raising the price of beer, two independent TDs, Jim Kemmy and Sean Loftus, joined Fianna FĂĄil in the opposition lobby, resulting in the measureâs defeat by 82 votes to 81.
The government subsequently collapsed under the weight of public disdain over the measure, sending politicians back to the electorate for the third time in just over a year, with many of them paying for their poor judgement handsomely.
In 2014, it took about 13,000 people to shout loud enough that those who occupied Merrion Street could hear what the public was saying, and if they had been in any doubt, thereâs nothing like an upcoming election to spark parties to put their ear to the ground. An election from which the Labour Party have still never recovered, while the water charges remain a stick used to beat them with.

Itâs not that Golfgate was the first political scandal or the first time the Government failed to monitor the mood of the public or even the first time a get-together had got up peopleâs noses, as those of us old enough to remember 2006 can still recall the infamous âGalway tentâ.
Golfgate wasnât the first, but it was the hurt that endured, and astonishingly, the Government hasnât learned anything at all.
Those of us who watch the Cabinet closely, could sense a sheepishness when the DĂĄil returned early last summer. Keen to impress, trying not to frighten the horses, like the morning after you were acting the maggot and keep asking your significant other if they want a cup of tea the next day.Â
Just like the cups of tea, the contrition ran out and it was back down to business, telling the country what was good for them.
One would imagine that an easy win for the coalition would have been the long-awaited report into the horrors of the mother and baby homes and accompanying legislation to finally give adopted people the information they are owed.
What followed was fraught weeks of rows in the DĂĄil, TDs in tears speaking in the Chamber were beamed into every home in Ireland. Adopted people, survivors of institutions and all who loved them, begging the Government not to seal the records and give people what they were owed.
Government TDs rather, accused everyone from the opposition to the media for whipping up a frenzy and overexaggerating the issue â some even claimed there were other motives at play, before finally rewriting their plans, in order to allow those hurt by the State to know who they really are.
Childrenâs shoes again made an appearance in this governmentâs list of calamities, like a spectre from tin-eared governmentâs past.
In March, in the throes of our post-Christmas lockdown, the Taoiseach repeatedly stated that non-essential retail would not open until May at the earliest, despite growing calls for childrenâs shoes to be listed as essential.
Government by sprang back into action once again, and lo, despite the growing calls for months from parents, doctors and opposition, just one day after MicheĂĄl Martin firmly stated it was a no-go, his Minister for Health gave the green light. My kingdom for a new pair of junior Nike Air Max.
Others werenât as lucky.
Pregnant people across Ireland have attended scans, heard bad news, good news, delivered and lost their babies, all on their own.
Calls from women, doctors and the opposition went unanswered for months. The cynical could argue if their plight was captured on a viral video on South William St, the Government might have taken more notice.Â
Partners stood outside windows and doors, treated as visitors for the most momentous days of their lives, someone to drive the car and carry the bag to the door of the hospital and wait for a call.
Such things could be considered peripheral issues, when theyâre not happening to you, and the Government will argue this is a once-in-a-lifetime pandemic, theyâre in a historic coalition and theyâre learning as they go.
Until this month, when lightning struck twice.
A former minister in a Fine Gael-led Government was appointed to a plum job no one in the UN had ever heard of. The job was not publicly advertised, the Taoiseach was not informed and the public and all who questioned these actions were labeled as cynical.Â

Simon Coveney, who appointed Katherine Zappone to her new role, even told a journalist ânot to make a storyâ out of it, and this was after his Fine Gael colleague Emer Higgins said on live TV that: âThis is a 13 or 15 grand role . . . I donât think we want to make a huge mountain out of a molehill here either,â apparently unaware that âjustâ âŹ13,000 is âŹ2,000 less than the amount the State pays for those who care for a loved one for a year.
Not to be outdone by Fine Gael, the Taoiseach later lined up to assure us the appointment was done â âAll in good faith and we move onâ, with all the belief of a man who thought if he just said something loud enough it would come true.
The public was annoyed, sure, but weâd been annoyed before and it couldnât get worse, could it?
And there it was, a second party. A 50-strong get-together in an up-market hotel where most of us could only dream of having a cup of tea, never mind a shindig.
And if things couldnât get worse, they told us that it was allowed, actually.

Pubs and restaurants across Ireland with ample outdoor seating were informed that they too could have taken bookings for outdoor parties for up to 200 people, but they didnât think to tell us until the TĂĄnaiste attended one.Â
They didnât even think to tell FĂĄilte Ireland, which sets the rules for the pubs, hotels and restaurants, and their newly free-to-be-booked outdoor party spaces.
Almost a year to the day, we were back where we knew weâd end up.
A year of frustration, fury and flagging spirits. Three heads in Government and not one ear between them.






