Married to the job

ONE is among the most famous women in the world, her face recognisable from magazine covers and insatiable TV coverage.

The other can slip into her local supermarket knowing that few will mark her out for attention.

One is public property, her every utterance, endeavour and outfit scrutinised. The other has made privacy her precept and rarely places herself in a position to attract cameras or comment.

One lives in a designated mansion protected like a fortress, her moves approved and monitored by armed security personnel. The other enjoys the sanctity of her own home with the freedom to go about her day as she chooses, restricted only by the demands of a busy household.

Yet Michelle Obama, wife of US President Barack Obama, and Fionnuala Kenny, wife of Taoiseach Enda Kenny, have more in common than first appears.

There are incidental similarities — both celebrate their 20th wedding anniversaries next year and became mothers for the first time in their mid-30s. Both tried to keep their romances under wraps — Michelle for fear of fulfilling a stereotype, as she and Barack were the only two single young black people in their firm; and Fionnuala to avoid awkwardness because Enda was an opposition TD and she worked for Fianna Fáil. Their attempts at discretion failed but it didn’t hurt either relationship and both women married men who think good housekeeping is merely a magazine title.

Michelle lamented during Barack’s presidential campaign: “He still has trouble … putting his socks actually in the dirty clothes, and he still doesn’t do a better job than our five-year-old daughter Sasha at making his bed.”

Fionnuala had a similar tale to tell of Enda, revealing during the general election campaign this year: “He’s untidy. And he doesn’t realise it when he comes in with mucky shoes on my lovely floor.”

But the empathy shared by these two women goes deeper than floors strewn with stray socks and muddy footprints.

Both are familiar with the mixed feelings that must come from sharing their husbands with their respective nations, knowing that when it comes to priorities, they can’t top the list.

Both sacrificed their careers for their spouse’s ambitions, taking a back seat when they might have been miles ahead of their men.

Both keep the home fires burning, caring for the children, providing moral support and maintaining a sense of normality that keeps their men grounded and their family life intact.

And that makes them more powerful than even the best political advisors.

It was evident in their first meeting at the St Patrick’s Day celebrations in Washington last March, where the overriding impression was of two women entirely comfortable in their own skins.

While her husband, at times, looked giddy with excitement during his White House visit, Fionnuala appeared at home.

She isn’t intimidated by occasion or titles and has an instinctive ‘one smile for all’ policy that sees her give the same broad beam whoever the recipient may be and whatever their status in life.

Michelle, too, was a relaxed hostess. Assured but not overbearing, she also has an animated smile that she deploys with generous regularity, and an absence of discrimination.

There’s something about a leader who has a naturally confident, attractive, engaging, outgoing woman on his arm that appeals to voters. It makes them think he must be doing something right. It’s added value that no marketing whizz, slogan or ad campaign could produce.

Michelle’s way with people has earned her the tag ‘hugger-in-chief’ but there are many other job descriptions she could be holding by now if her husband had not set out to make history in 2008.

Michelle Obama was a commercial lawyer climbing the career ladder when her company assigned her to mentor the new employee who would go on to become her husband.

Michelle left law around the time they were married and she became assistant to Chicago Mayor Richard Daley, developing community projects, before moving to the University of Chicago, again on the community affairs side.

Michelle progressed quickly so that by 2006, the year before her husband declared his intention to seek a nomination for the presidential candidacy she earned $273,618, almost twice his senator’s salary.

That all went by the wayside when Barack set his sights on the White House and now the 47-year-old mother of two girls, 12-year-old Malia and nine–year-old Sasha, is essentially a stay-at-home mom although with an extensive portfolio of campaigns to keep her busy.

She spearheads Let’s Move, an exercise movement that aims to combat childhood obesity; supports events for families of the military, and has become the poster girl for GIY, reviving the White House vegetable garden in a bid to promote healthy eating.

There have been comments, some snide, some sympathetic, that being hugger-in-chief or White House gardener falls short of her abilities and ambitions.

Similar remarks have been made about 54-year-old Fionnuala Kenny, the smart, languages graduate from Clontarf, Dublin who fell into public relations by chance and discovered a gift for communication and organisation.

Chance also brought her to the attention of Charles Haughey after she applied for a job with a national organisation that turned out to be Fianna Fáil, he later made her first ever female head of government information services.

Fionnuala went on to become public relations manager at RTÉ and could probably be heading up her own PR company now if Enda and three children — 18-year-old Aoibhinn, 16-year-old Ferdia and 14-year-old Naoise — had not interrupted proceedings.

But an acquaintance says too much is made of her ‘sacrifice’. “She’d hate to be seen as a martyr. She chose to be at home. She knows Enda couldn’t do his job without her. She doesn’t need her name on the door in a plush office to feel validated.”

That was a rare acquaintance who spoke or even returned calls. “She’s a very private lady,” said another firmly, by way of explaining not to expect any comment, anecdotes or snippets of information.

That’s another thing Michelle and Fionnuala have in common — loyalty from friends. Even if they only have good things to say about them, their friends remain admirably tight-lipped.

Washington Post journalist, Liza Mundy, who wrote an unauthorised biography of Michelle, described hitting an unprecedented wall of silence when she began her research in 2008.

There is, however, one big difference between the first ladies, although it may not be evident for some years to come.

As Hilary Clinton has shown, a stint by the side of the leader of the US can be a giant stepping stone to a whole new career.

When she stopped being a power source for her husband Bill, the former US president, she got to generate some impressive prospects for herself.

Michelle Obama is likely to follow suit, maybe not seeking elected office, but almost certainly finding an executive role herself in some major non-profit organisation.

Irish first ladies have no such track record in exploiting their spouse’s time at the helm, and as the adage that all political careers end in failure is generally true, they have the added burden of having to soothe their husbands’ wounded egos.

Michelle and Fionnuala may have much in common now, but for each of them life after public life is likely to be very different.