Cheques and balances
AS OF now, Seanad Éireann appears to be living on borrowed time. The Programme for Government includes a commitment to hold a referendum on abolishing the upper house. When and if such a referendum takes its place in the queue of constitutional polls, the smart money says a majority will opt to be rid of the institution.
Right now, the public at large might abolish the Dáil if it was polled on whether to do so. There is widespread disillusion with politics and how it contributed to landing the nation at its current, sorry pass.
The change of government early last year was supposed to herald a bright new dawn in the body politic. There was to be no more stroke politics. The discredited form of clientelism practiced best by Fianna Fáil was to get the bum’s rush. Two names in recent days have shown where those hopes and aspirations ended up.
James Reilly. Phil Hogan.
And so politics is carrying on as it ever was, Fine Gael and Labour’s Tweedledum just displacing poor Tweedledee, Fianna Fáil.
But wait, all is not lost. The Government is serious about one particular reform. The great unwashed can rest assured that they will be given the opportunity to rid themselves of the Seanad. This move can act as a perfect repository for the anger and frustration abroad at the political system. In pubs and clubs, and wherever citizens gather, they will pause in the depths of anger, and sigh that at least Kenny got rid of that goddamn talking shop.
That is what Enda Kenny and his cabinet must be hoping for, at least. For instead of real reform — divesting supreme power from the executive, elevating the role of parliament, looking at the electoral system — the mar dhea version will be available. Abolishing the Seanad will be sold as a “radical reform”, when actually, if it does happen, it will represent nothing more than an attempt to distract from a redundant agenda of reform.
Last week, a group of interested individuals published a paper making the case for reforming rather than abolishing the Seanad. Open It, Don’t Close It was written by current senators Fergal Quinn and Katherine Zappone, former long-standing member Joe O’Toole, political big beast Michael McDowell, and pundit Noel Whelan.
It makes the case for reforming rather than abolishing the house. And while it can be suggested that at least two of the authors have a vested interest, the paper does make for interesting reading.
One of the more salient points made in the paper is the rationale for retaining a second chamber of parliament.
“The rationale for having two houses of parliament in a unitary state is compelling. It allows for broader representation by providing the opportunity for other sectoral, geographic or demographic elements that may not be adequately represented in the main house.
“It also strengthens the parliamentary process by allowing a second review of legislative proposals before they become binding on all. In practical terms, it provides what is valued in many aspects of life, most notably in medicine and law, namely, a second opinion. It also provides a slower and more reflective forum for matters to be considered and debated in a less politically febrile context.
“The Constitution provides for Seanad Éireann to meet these objectives, albeit imperfectly. The potential for wider representation is limited by the current electoral system to Seanad Éireann.”
The points made are particularly valid today. The current Dáil is one in which the governing parties have a large majority. In such an environment, a sense of arrogance can permeate government, and alternative views are often shouted down. Power becomes more concentrated in fewer hands, to the point that even dissonant voices are often regarded as little more than opposition for the sake of opposition. Getting rid of a second chamber in such an environment might be regarded in some quarters as nothing short of reckless.
Equally, in a political sense, the Dáil is a pretty homogenous body. Precious few of its members have come to politics other than through the local authority route, where career politicians are custom made. At least some members of the Seanad have entered parliament through a road less travelled, and are therefore in a position to offer contributions from a pretty unique perspective.
There are problems with the Seanad electorate, which was designed for a different era. But there have also been 10 reports into how the institution could be reformed, and practically all have been ignored. None of the reports even suggested abolition.
The reality is that, for the main parties, the Seanad had long served as a staging post for election to the Dáil, and while it fulfilled that purpose, Fianna Fáil, Fine Gael, and Labour, in particular, were happy to leave well enough alone.
These points can be debated, but the most worrying aspect of the apparent campaign to do away with the second chamber is how it came about. Far from emerging as a result of some deep philosophical or sociological thinking, it appears to have kicked off as nothing more than a cheap political stunt.
The notion of abolition first reared its head when announced by Enda Kenny at the Fine Gael president’s dinner on Oct 17, 2009.
The announcement was made in conjunction with other reforms Kenny said Fine Gael would enact. These included reducing the number of TDs by 20 which, combined with getting rid of the Seanad, would result in a major reduction in public expenditure.
As we now know, the proposed reduction of 20 TDs was watered down to the point where there will only be six fewer members after the next election.
But the Seanad measure was the one which captured the headlines. And Kenny was itching for headlines at the time.
The weeks prior to the event at which he made the announcement was full of controversy over the then Ceann Comhairle John O’Donoghue’s expenses, and the pay-off for former Fás boss Roddy Molloy. Both issues had tapped into the anger being felt throughout large swathes of the population. The subject matter — politicians and senior public servants living high on the hog — was enough to make the blood boil at a time when austerity was being ushered in.
The O’Donoghue revelations had added to the cynicism felt about the body politic as a whole, and Eamon Gilmore had been first to make political hay, breaking from the consensus and demanding O’Donoghue’s head. At the time, the respective leaders of Fine Gael and Labour were vying to emerge as the figurehead railing against the Fianna Fáil-led government, which had driven the ship of state onto the rocks. The prize on offer was the top job at the next election. With Gilmore outshining Kenny at various stages, those around Kenny needed to keep churning out something that would show their leader in a good light.
So it was that a few weeks later, Kenny pulled his rabbit from the hat. The population in general wanted change and he was offering to make the big gesture in abolishing the Seanad.
The media and public weren’t the only people surprised at this new departure. Many within his party were completely thrown. His party’s senators, the poor dears, were highly offended. Nobody had told them this was coming.
In fact, it seems to have been a very well-kept secret within Kenny’s inner circle. Just seven months earlier, a policy document entitled New Era had pledged to retain a reformed Seanad as part of a number of measures proposed to rescue the discredited body politic. Presumably, some of the same people who had compiled that paper were now moving to throw the Seanad baby out with the bathwater of discredited political institutions.
All in all, the announcement looked like nothing more than a gimmick to garner publicity and reflect the Blueshirts as fully focused on cleaning up politics.
The other hook, of course, was cost. Repeatedly, since the issue was first raised, it has been stated that abolition would save the exchequer €150m over the course of five years.
However, last January, the clerk of the Dáil, Kieran Coughlan, told an Oireachtas committee that the real cost of the Seanad was about €10m per annum, with an average cost of salaries to senators comprising €4.1m of that figure.
As Open It, Don’t Close It states: “These figures compare with the annual figure of €3.4m currently being paid by the present government to 37 ‘special ministerial advisers’, for which expenditure there is no constitutional requirement.”
Despite all that, the spin has hit home. By the time of the last general election, all the main parties were in favour of abolition. In an environment where politics was walking the plank, what better way to sate public anger than by throwing the Seanad to the sharks. While the main parties would miss a forum in which to blood new talent, it was a small price to pay in order to hold most of what they had.
At this point, the appetite for abolition appears to be lukewarm among Labour supporters. It might be that the referendum — tentatively pencilled in for late next year — could be pushed out beyond the next general election and into infinity. But with a thickening file of broken promises, Kenny and his lieutenants might be inclined to push this one as a rare example of keeping a promise. It could also serve well to deflect from the paucity of real political reform. If so, the fate of an important and long standing institution will be relegated to the status of cheap political stunt in the name of spin.






