Messenger is not to blame for cynicism about politicians
HE HASN’T gone away, you know. Pat Rabbitte may have exited the cabinet, but anybody who thought he would slip quietly from national prominence — like his kindred spirits, Ruairi Quinn and Eamon Gilmore — is mistaken.
Last Sunday, in a newspaper column, the former minister for communications and natural resources had a pop at “negativity” and “cynicism” in the media.
Rabbitte feels that RTÉ in particular has become too cynical about politics since the economic meltdown of 2008. He accused the national broadcaster of giving the economic recovery a daily “ice bucket treatment” through adopting an unnecessarily negative approach to questioning politicians.
“It ought to be possible to subject politicians to rigorous questioning without seeming to set out to undermine confidence in politics itself,” Rabbitte intoned.
“It should be possible to criticise the running of the household without pulling down the house.”
When somebody of Rabbitte’s experience and intellect makes such an allegation, it should be examined seriously. After all, he has been one of the most articulate politicians to grace the national stage over the last two decades. But as with much to do with politics, it is difficult to evaluate his assertion without looking at where he might be coming from himself.
It is correct that the media will often make more of the negative story than the positive. Bad news gives better copy. However, believe it or not, journalists are as prone to displaying integrity as your average guard, teacher, solicitor, butcher or baker.
In addition, media training and practice places value on balance. Sure, standards vary, and some fall short of good practice. But does anybody really believe that RTÉ in general is prone to excessive negativity, cynicism or hyperbola?
Some might say that the odd politician is far more prone to hyperbola. One memorable occasion was that of the events surrounding the resignation of Albert Reynolds as taoiseach in 1994. At a time when rumours and allegations swirled through the body politic, one TD declared with thunderous intent that he was in possession of information that would “rock the State to its foundations”.
The State held tough, and the politician in question quietly descended from the heights of moral indignation as the days wore on. And the man in question? One P Rabbitte.
In recent years, RTÉ has given a platform to displays of outrageous cynicism. One such occasion was on November 19, 2010, soon after the troika were called in to bail out the economy. Rabbitte and Fianna Fáil minister Pat Carey were debating the crisis when Rabbitte suddenly rose to the heights of anger.
“You ought to be ashamed to show your face after having brought this country to penury,” he roared.
“You destroyed this economy and engaged in lies over the weekend. It’s about time you went because you can do no more damage to this country and coming in here tonight with your palaver… You ought to be ashamed.”
Carey, a latecomer to cabinet, who was never part of the inner circle of governmental mismanagement, said he wasn’t.
“Well, you ought to be. That’s your problem. You don’t have any shame.”
Rabbitte eventually calmed down, but his anger would definitely have snaffled a few votes. This, after all, was at a time when his party leader Eamon Gilmore was angry morning, noon and night in public, reaching out to surf the genuine anger of large swathes of the population.
Maybe Pat was really angry that night. Or maybe he thought the occasion demanded anger be the best policy on live TV.
CYNICISM is a constant danger in politics and the media. Those who have observed how things are done in politics can’t help on occasion to reach first for a cynical impulse.
Cynicism certainly informed the governance of the country through the worst excesses of the celtic bubble. Much of what was done was a cynical attempt to buy votes, ignoring the mounting cost to the overall welfare of the nation.
Then along came a new broom in 2011 to sweep the cynicism from politics. Fine Gael and Labour pledged a “democratic revolution”. No more would the electorate be subjected to cynical promises in advance of elections.
Such was the atmosphere in which the Labour party promised the sun, moon and stars, particularly in the last days of the election when it seemed possible Fine Gael might reach an overall majority. No cuts in child benefit, no more fees for students, no more pain for great majority.
In the aftermath of the election, all those promises were exposed as empty rhetoric; just one more cynical ploy to hoover up votes. When confronted with this reality in government, one minister didn’t even attempt to waffle his way out of it.
In December 2012, on The Week in Politics, Rabbitte said of the promises: “Isn’t that what you tend to do in an election?”
And we thought all that cynicism had been washed out of politics.
Rabbitte, to be fair to him, is obviously still smarting from having been dropped from government. He might justifiably look at those who replaced him and how they might be perceived to have more ability than he possesses.
He might well mull over his loss of office on the basis of little more than a personality clash with the new leader. He may well reflect that after a lifetime in politics, it was cruel he gets just half a term as a senior minister before being dumped.
But to turn his guns on the messenger as a reason for his party’s slump, which eventually led to a change of leader, is a little sad. Cynicism about politics in recent years, whether he recognises it or not, has largely emanated from the trade itself.





