So Fianna Fáil says sorry for overseeing the Irish property bubble, destroying the economy and signing away our economic sovereignty. About time, but it’s hard not to be cynical about Micheál Martin’s apology.
Most of the people responsible for this calamitous period of misrule have faced only a hiding at the polls as punishment, but otherwise are doing very well for themselves on generous pensions. Some, like Bertie Ahern at the ardfheis, are getting pats on the back and whispers in the ear about how unfairly they’re being treated.
Above all, though, the apology constructs a narrative in which 14 years of atrocious governance is whittled down to a few discrete moments of poor decision making. The bank guarantee – oopsy daisy. Ignoring explicit warnings about the bubbling property market – doh. A series of giveaway budgets to coincide with imminent elections – sure the other guys were promising worse.
The result was a speech that probably did enough to convince the latent Fianna Fáil faithful that the party has recognised the errors of its ways and has seen the light. But the subtext is far more worrying. Anyone, after all, can make mistakes. Recognising and apologising for mistakes, and above all learning from them, should be the natural way of things, not a major break with tradition.
But in apologising for merely “making mistakes”, Martin is avoiding having to answer for the endemic Fianna Fáil culture that made those mistakes so inevitable in the first place. A decent-sized library could be filled with the reams of writing trying to determine exactly what that culture is, but if I was to come up with a pithy summary, I’d suggest that what defines Fianna Fáil is a culture that feels entitled to power, and feels entitled to wield that power for its own gain. And while that’s not necessarily corrupt, it most certainly is corrupting.
Seen in that light, all those “mistakes” for which Martin is having to apologise are the inexorable result of that sense of entitlement. Lax regulation of the banking sector and shameless pandering to the construction sector are two of the most obvious manifestations of that – giving those industries what they wanted was just one of the ways in which Fianna Fáil governed primarily for their own benefit, and we are all suffering for those particularly close relationships.
But most worrying of all, Martin’s apology seems to be the latest symptom of the same problem – it’s more an act of political self-preservation than genuine contrition. Their every action can be seen as motivated by the desire to get or maintain power – it is a political party, after all, and a particularly single-minded one – and this is the next step in that process. The chastening electoral defeat must be followed by a display of penitence.
I’d be more likely to believe it if I could detect even a whiff of shame, but when Brian Cowen is given a standing ovation and Bertie Ahern gets his hand shaken off him, it’s clear that shame isn’t on the agenda. Nope, shame doesn’t win elections, you see, and that’s all that matters in the end.
All apologies, but no shame in the game
So Fianna Fáil says sorry for overseeing the Irish property bubble, destroying the economy and signing away our economic sovereignty. About time, but it’s hard not to be cynical about Micheál Martin’s apology.
Most of the people responsible for this calamitous period of misrule have faced only a hiding at the polls as punishment, but otherwise are doing very well for themselves on generous pensions. Some, like Bertie Ahern at the ardfheis, are getting pats on the back and whispers in the ear about how unfairly they’re being treated.
Above all, though, the apology constructs a narrative in which 14 years of atrocious governance is whittled down to a few discrete moments of poor decision making. The bank guarantee – oopsy daisy. Ignoring explicit warnings about the bubbling property market – doh. A series of giveaway budgets to coincide with imminent elections – sure the other guys were promising worse.
The result was a speech that probably did enough to convince the latent Fianna Fáil faithful that the party has recognised the errors of its ways and has seen the light. But the subtext is far more worrying. Anyone, after all, can make mistakes. Recognising and apologising for mistakes, and above all learning from them, should be the natural way of things, not a major break with tradition.
But in apologising for merely “making mistakes”, Martin is avoiding having to answer for the endemic Fianna Fáil culture that made those mistakes so inevitable in the first place. A decent-sized library could be filled with the reams of writing trying to determine exactly what that culture is, but if I was to come up with a pithy summary, I’d suggest that what defines Fianna Fáil is a culture that feels entitled to power, and feels entitled to wield that power for its own gain. And while that’s not necessarily corrupt, it most certainly is corrupting.
Seen in that light, all those “mistakes” for which Martin is having to apologise are the inexorable result of that sense of entitlement. Lax regulation of the banking sector and shameless pandering to the construction sector are two of the most obvious manifestations of that – giving those industries what they wanted was just one of the ways in which Fianna Fáil governed primarily for their own benefit, and we are all suffering for those particularly close relationships.
But most worrying of all, Martin’s apology seems to be the latest symptom of the same problem – it’s more an act of political self-preservation than genuine contrition. Their every action can be seen as motivated by the desire to get or maintain power – it is a political party, after all, and a particularly single-minded one – and this is the next step in that process. The chastening electoral defeat must be followed by a display of penitence.
I’d be more likely to believe it if I could detect even a whiff of shame, but when Brian Cowen is given a standing ovation and Bertie Ahern gets his hand shaken off him, it’s clear that shame isn’t on the agenda. Nope, shame doesn’t win elections, you see, and that’s all that matters in the end.