Where are we now? Some thoughts after THAT day of Dáil acrimony

Whether one thinks the allocation of Dáil speaking time, and the recognition of technical groups, is a big deal or not… this has unified the opposition parties like nothing before. After the Dáil dissolved in acrimony, representatives of six opposition parties (Sinn Féin, Labour, the Social Democrats, Independent Ireland, PBP and the Greens) all came to the plinth for a joint press conference. Aontú joined them almost immediately afterwards.

A subplot to this: Mary Lou McDonald was engaged in fairly transparent bridgebuilding all day. During the Dáil’s 15-minute suspension, which lasted for 34 minutes, she was regularly over for a conflab and conferral with Ivana Bacik. Moreover, when holding court on the plinth at the joint press conference, McDonald acted up as a sort of emcee and invited some of the other party leaders to field some of the questions that were ostensibly thrown at her. Will this unity last into ordinary business? It’s possible to argue that the issue is only so universally binding because the Dáil is still only in a half-life and there’s no other business on which they might end up divided. Nonetheless, the unity among the opposition side is a theme to watch.

That being said: there are competing instincts this evening among the opposition groups this evening. There are some who believe, confidently, that they can now claim the moral high ground and move on. The tyranny of the numbers has been brought to bear; the Government used its voting majority to force its will upon the House as a whole. That’s just what governments do, on good days and bad. So, the opposition could do a Jeremy Corbyn and claim they have lost the vote but won the argument.

That’s one outlook. The other is to keep fighting this fight; some believe they have the public firmly on side, and aren’t prepared to look like they’re simply lying down and accepting the changes as a fait accompli. They want to keep the moral fight going, even if it means continued disruption of the ‘ordinary’ routine business.

This puts the unity of the opposition to a strategic test. If the opposition’s common stance is to remain obstinate and not to let the dust settle on the new arrangements (which, by the way, only take formal effect from next Tuesday), they have to do it first thing on Wednesday morning.

The Dáil is due to sit to hear Topical Issues being raised by four TDs at 9:12am. Were the opposition to allow that business to go ahead uninterrupted, and then only kick up a fuss at Leaders’ Questions when the audience is larger, the contention that democracy itself is at stake would be undermined. They can’t just wait until noon to cry foul; they either have to do it from the very outset, or not do it at all.

Opposition leaders have said they’ll meet again on Wednesday morning to consider next steps and, in McDonald’s words, “everything is on the table”. One suspects they’ll have to make a decision pretty swiftly; that may not be easy given the varying positions among them.

The second big issue is the position of the Ceann Comhairle. There is a lot of anger that Verona Murphy disregarded the very visible (and very audible) dissent from the opposition benches when she notionally asked the House to approve the draft schedule for the week. Procedurally, she was correct – she put all the right questions to the House, and it’s not her fault that the opposition couldn’t hear her amid its self-generated cacophony. Politically, however, this was a highly inflammatory move. The fact that Verona Murphy could not be heard conducting ordinary business today – just as was the case on January 22nd, when the formation of a government itself was delayed – does not portray an image of a sturdy and competent chair.

My colleague at the Irish Mirror, Louise Burne, asked the seven opposition leaders this evening to raise their hands if they could state confidence in the Ceann Comhairle’s position. None of them did.

The position of Ceann Comhairle is a unique one; while you only need a majority of the Dáil to get into the job in the first place, by convention you need almost universal support to remain there. If a sizeable chunk of the House has made clear it no longer has faith in your ability to be an impartial chair, the chair is immediately wounded, almost fatally. The only precedent for a Ceann Comhairle being deposed is the example of John O’Donoghue, who resigned in 2009 when the Labour Party withdrew confidence over his prior expenses claims in government. The mere threat of a motion of no confidence was enough to unseat him. The heckles from the Sinn Féin benches – accusing her of being complicit in a government scam, or demanding to know what engagement she had had with the Taoiseach or Chief Whip prior to the day’s acrimonious business – don’t bode well.

It might be the case that, as the opposition try to keep a unified cause, they park their grievances about the speaking time row itself – and instead turn to Murphy’s position as the next outlet for their grievances.

And finally… any hope that this would be a one-day wonder died when Michael Lowry died to flick the V-sign in the direction of Paul Murphy. You can be fairly sure that image will be on the front page of at least one Wednesday morning newspaper.

Even if the gesture were directed only at Murphy – an unspoken instruction to ‘take your camera out of my face’ – it will come across as a tonal vindication of what the Government has done, largely at his own behest. Yes, government backbenchers will be the main beneficiaries of the changes, but make no mistake: this whole thing was done at his behest, and to ensure that he and the other Regional Independents retain some semblance of the speaking rights that they enjoyed previously.

Before politics Lowry was the head of the Tipperary GAA county board. A trait common to many sports politicians is that they don’t need to remain universally popular, once they’ve catered to a sufficient constituency that gets them re-elected. You don’t need to win everyone’s vote, merely the ones that matter. Lowry has shown, rather potently, that national sentiment is meaningless to him once the people of Thurles are on his side.