The Carlow-Kilkenny by-election was a joyous one for Fianna Fail. Their man Bobby Aylward won the contest and it was interpreted by many as a sign that the once-abhorred party was on the way back. The only fly in the ointment/poo in the porridge was the fact that before the Fianna Failers had time to draw breath, one of their leading figures Averil Power (married to Fionan Sheahan, editor of the Irish Independent ) announced her retirement from the party and fired both barrels into the political chest of its leader Micheál Martin, declaring that he just didn’t have the necessary leadership qualities. Oops and ouch. Avery desertion eclipses Bobby election and then some.
But there was another event which happened at the time of the Carlow-Kilkenny by-election and which brought even worse news for Fianna Fail (and some other parties). I would have missed it if someone hadn’t drawn my attention to it.
Sinn Féin in the south despite its phenomenal growth, has worked with one particular hand-brake pulled tight: it doesn’t tend to get transfer votes. There are reasons we could put forward to explain this but the uncomfortable fact for the party remains: they haven’t attracted transfers.
Not any more, if we consider Carlow-Kilkenny. In that by-election and over seven transfers, Sinn Féin pulled in an extra 5,600 votes; Fine Gael got 5,100 more and Fianna Fáil got 4,300 more. What’s more, in every transfer, Sinn Féin got more votes than all other candidates or came second, until Labour was eliminated. And finally, when Sinn Féin was eliminated, 12,000 of its 16,000 votes didn’t transfer to either Fianna Fáil or Fine Gael.
Were this trend to replicate itself across the state in a general election, Sinn Féin would do an awful lot better than some pundits are predicting (and, in some cases, hoping).
If the days of Sinn Féin being transfer-toxic are indeed over, Fianna Fáil must feel particularly worried. As Shakespeare so presciently said: “When sorrows come, they come not single spies/ But in battalions.”
Yourself apart, Jude, few Shakespearian scholars will have known of his ongoing interest in voting transfers patterns in SE Ireland.
You’re in good form today, my Lord; the release from PGCE has brought instant reward.
‘What light through yonder window breaks?’
I’m always in good form, John. At my age, every day’s a bonus…
Seeds of doubt
One may have to thank the An Taoiseach and An Tánaiste for this seismic shift in Irish politics. At the launch of the Ireland 2016 Centenary Programme, An Taoiseach said,
“There are some moments in history when a seed is sown and the old order changes forever.”
An Tánaiste and Minister for Social Protection (?) said,
“The Republic, Republicanism, does not belong to any one group, to any one set of people. It would be much diminished if it did. We are all equally entitled to be inspired by the values espoused in the Proclamation of the Republic. We are all of us equally charged to make good in our time on the challenge posed to us by the men who penned that document all of a century ago.”
The Minister for Social Protection knows all about unequal charges. Can we forget her ire at the fact that water protesters were using mobile telephones? I am sure Pearse et al would have a different perspective from An Tánaiste about a system that provides preferential treatment for bankers and sends protesters to prison. They might also prefer a mention about the role played by Cumann na mBan, partition and the sick counties.
Your use of the term ‘toxic’, Esteemed Blogmeister, distracted one momentarily from the Big New Word which has just sexily entered the lexicon of the blattering classes in the Free Southern Stateen.
One is simply talking about Redaction. Or, if you prefer, Simply Redaction.
It has been used in connection with the courtroom drama currently being staged / waged in the Four Courts on Liffeyside involving the lithe-fingered and litigious Denis ‘Cruise Ship’ O’Brien and the mick Hacknells of those media outlets which are not actually to be found in his deep pockets – yet..
Mind you, while liking both the sound and the ship-shape of the new word Perkie’s inner simple-minded hacknell still hasn’t a clue what it actually means. Nonetheless duty demands he will persist in listening in by ,erm, holding back his ear (the right one).
In the meanwhile, he will continue to simultaneously lend his left ear to the host of radio stations which ply,for the convenience of the hoi polloi, the airwaves of the FSS, under the flag of the First Holy Communicorp of Denis O’Brien in DOBlin.
This very morning, for instance, he happened to turn his knob and tune in to the flagship station of Newstalk 106, specifically to the show hosted by one, Shane Coleman. The impasse in Norneverland was the topic in q. and the guests on the show were (r to l) Sammy and Danny, as in Wilson and Morrison.
In this instance, Sam rather than Dan was indubitably the Man as the show tended, to follow, oddly enough, the template of a courtroom drama rather than a current affairs show. In the sense that the host (the aptly initialed SC) seemed to view himself in the role of the presiding judge, with Sammy as the Prosecuting Counsel and Dan the non-Man definitely in the dock.
It went as follows: Sammy would make a series of long, uninterrupted statements of fact, questioning the economic bona fides of (gasp) Sinn Fein in Norneverland. Whom he seemed to be saying were taking orders from their (gulp) ‘Southern Command’ in the FSS.
Then,before he could respond Dan the non-Man would be sternly directed by the metaphorically be-wigged host not to prevaricate (a daarling word, Joxer) but to, erm, respond directly to the DUP man’s long, uninterrupted statements of fact on DOB radio.
Sammy must pardon Perkie if he is not summarising of even, erm, redacting his statements which managed to be both economically sophisticated and uneconomic time-wise, to a professional degree of accuracy.
Blame it, if you will, on the w-word. the use of which the boy Wilson seemed to relish. And to an inordinate degree. That would be: w for welsh or even, welch. As in, ‘Sinn Fein in Norneveland has been compelled to welsh on this agreement as well as to welsh on that deal’. All down to the directives received from the ‘Southern Command’ down there (see above).
Could it be, Perkie’s inner sigh-cologist was compelled to wonder in a mind-wandering moment, that the w for welsh word was actually Sammy’s subliminal message-sending to a long-lost love of the long ago?
One whom, perhaps, he may even at one time has cavorted with through the valleys and hillocks of Rhondda (the spelling of which would suggest the incorporation of her da as well in that romantic reverie). Chasing the butterflies of a burgeoning political dynasty? And in the provisional role of Skinners too, sans the Paisley shawl, As in lookee, no touchee. As one flicks through the leaves of one’s memory album.
Or, gamboled perchance through the corridors and crannies (partial to nukey) of the Wedding-cake design of Belfast City Hall itself, with Herself playing the role of mare to his bechained Stalin?
One thing is sure: Sammy, one is happy to report, has successfully recovered from his drubbing at the handsome verbals of the bogus blaggard, Ali G., he of the ‘dip snap’ hand gesture. Who once showed the wee DUP mon to be a true tulip even if his ability to trip through a field of same (for photographic and artistic purposes) was to prove somewhat short-lived.
For real.
(Though it is doubtful if the top DUP hip-hopper ever actually suspected he was in fact, drubbed).
Re-spec.
Sammy’s concern for us folk down here in the Free Southern Stateen was touching in the extreme. And nobody appreciates that more than Perkie’s inner toucher. The manner in which the loyalist lad Wilson prefaced his every long and uninterrupted statement of fact by warning us down here in the Cahillphate of the dangers we face if such uncompromising, economic illiterates like the Shinners should ever – God of the Old Testament bless the mark ! – join in a Coalition Government.
-Yon Southern Command know naught about the nuances of compromise in a Coalition Goverment, if their Norneverland counterparts are any tour guide !
Why, it was so touching it was as if the long, u. statements of Sammy had been penned by a troika of Dame Ruth, Eyelash and Helipcopter Harris of the Sunday Dependent itself.
To conclude with the t-word: t for toxic. The logo of the t-word is the Skull and Crossbones and is to be found on the lethal jars in a pharmacy, on the flag of a pirate radio and even, – a Ripley momennt of creid e no na cried – on the ganseys of the GAH team in Queen’s College, Cork.
The latter may well be down to the whereabouts of a particular Professor Emeritus of Detritus Studies.
PS Did one forget to mention that Shane Coleman is a protoge of one, Stephen Collins and also a former scribe with the (gulp) Irish Dependent?
As the lad Alan was wont to remark: ‘There’s a score to settle and – this is it !’.
Ah Perkie – so reassuring, as I sit here and listen on Spotify to Brian Poole and the Tremeloes sing ‘I Can Dance’ (ah, yesteryear and the Four Ps…), you have reasssured me. Comforting to know that should the Dependent Torch fall from the faltering hands of Stephen (‘We never mention his name in the family circle’) then it will be seized by shameless Shane…Cheesh. Now you’ve got me WRITING like you…No sincerer form of flattery.
GRMA, Esteemed Blogmeister.
Actually, a confesh: one was so distracted by the Redaction Faction Fight that one quite forgot to mention that the seeming termination of the transfer-toxicity of the Shnners never rated a dickey-bird on the aviary that is/ are the airwaves of the Free Southern Stateen.
Far more important matters to be dealt with, sans doute: such as the opportunistic resignation of Averil Power, aka Senator Window and the latest sneaking in and out through this thingy called the Transfer Window.
By burglar boys of Company C in domino masks, striped red and black jerseys with a big bag marked SWAG.
Brian Poole and the Tremoloes? Whatever about Spotify, EB, Perkie’s inner spotty-faced gurrier has an insider-fading memory of BP and the T’s miming at the foot of Nelson’s Pillar in Sackville Street.
If they (and it) were to return no doubt they would be miming ‘Silence is Golden’.
How to explain this mouse-like silence of the normally verbose FSS media on the Shinner performance in Carlow-Kilkenny?
Could it be that there are actually even more former winners of Observer Mice Debating Competition among their sherried ranks than has been hitherto revealed?
Perhaps it is better if we are not told.
Beir bua !
Iolar, – Its not often I go for a Burton, but when I read Joan’s words above, in this case I must agree with her and her republican origins.
The Labour Party in the Republic has very republican roots, having begun with the Official IRA which did go on ceasefire in the north (though they did kill two police officers in Lurgan, Co Armagh at that time).
From the Stickies they morphed into the Workers’ Party and then joined up lock, stock and barrel with the then ailing Labour Party.
So, looked at historically, their republican roots stand with the best of them – even though I’ve never seen Joan wearing her Stickie Easter Lily!
Grma, Sherdy though I suspect James Connolly would question the said Republican roots and the route being followed by the leader of the Labour Party. I prefer to let the electorate adjudicate on such matters. Time will tell.