Just Mary

by Mary O'Rourke

  So, for the second time within that 24 hours, I was in front of the Taoiseach. ‘Look, you refused Women’s Affairs,’ he said, ‘what about Junior Minister in the Department of Industry and Commerce — Des O’Malley will be your Senior Minister?’ I thought that sounded interesting and so I agreed, and left his office somewhat pacified. Later that day I went over to meet Des O’Malley, who said, ‘Look Mary, I know this isn’t pleasant for you, so I am going to give you free rein. You will have your own office space in a separate office block quite near the Dáil and I will be asking you to take on the business of Consumer Affairs. There is a major piece of legislation, the Consumer Credit Bill, which has to be put together and brought through the Dáil, and I want you to take charge of that.’ I have always had an interest in consumer matters and what he was offering was something useful I felt I could do well. So I accepted at once and I went off to my office, mollified and happy. Now, as we know, a Minister of State’s position is not the same as being in Cabinet, and that was a blow to me, of course. I do take these things to heart, but I was quite lucky in this instance because I came back from it and recovered pretty quickly.

  That afternoon, Albert had a press conference at which he said that he would have two main aims during his time in office. One would be to achieve lasting peace in the North, and the second would be to bring about economic recovery in Ireland. To give credit where credit is due, Albert really worked at the North. He made it his own; he went where nobody else would go; he met people nobody else would meet. I really feel that under his time as Taoiseach, matters in the North began to move at last, and in a very positive direction. And, of course, I never had any lasting animosity towards him. Why would I? He was my boss: he gave me a job, and I worked hard at it. I brought the Consumer Credit Bill to the Dáil and Des O’Malley was great to work for. He appreciated my situation and gave me free rein. All in all, I was to enjoy that brief sojourn as Minister for Consumer Affairs in the government of Albert Reynolds and the Progressive Democrats.

  Chapter 9

  MANAGING THE SMALL JUMPS

  Initially Albert Reynolds was very popular as Taoiseach and the new leader of the party, and internally, people responded well to what was a much more open style of leadership than heretofore. But then, very early on in his tenure, the curse of the knotty and difficult issue of abortion struck, in the form of a very high-profile and controversial court case, and Albert was left floundering in an awful mess which was not at all of his own making.

  The ‘X case’ of 1992 (Attorney General v. X), which had become the subject of a major public controversy, concerned a 14-year-old girl who had become pregnant as a result of being raped by a neighbour and wished to leave the country in order to have an abortion — something which is illegal in Ireland, except in very specific, legally defined situations. The girl’s predicament had rendered her a significant suicide threat. The then AG, Harry Whelehan, took a stance on the matter, seeking an injunction to prevent the girl from having the procedure carried out. It looked like there was going to be a stand-off. An appeal to the courts ultimately led to the girl receiving permission to travel, but all in all, it was a very fraught time. There were many TV and newspaper interviews, in which Albert Reynolds increasingly called on me to participate.

  My position then regarding abortion, which remains the same today, is that once there has been a conception, well then, there is a life and there is another person involved. The decision to abort that life is not something that can be taken as lightly as the ‘pro-choice’ people seem to think. Pro-choice for what, anyway? Of course the real crux of the dilemma lies in the question: when does life begin? Do you consider this to be the moment that conception has occurred, or is it 10 or 12 days later, when the impregnated egg clings to the wall of the womb, or is it at a specific phase in the development of the foetus? This issue poses a conundrum to this day and was to come forward quite a few years later in my career — in 2002, when Micheál Martin was Minister for Health and I was also in the Cabinet and he attempted to put forward to the people a further constitutional amendment, which among other things would have removed the threat of suicide as a grounds for legal abortion where the health of the mother was at risk (but which was decided against in a referendum at that stage).

  Finally, we were able to put the dilemma of the ‘X case’ behind us, but it was not long before the next difficulty for Reynolds presented itself. In autumn 1992 the Beef Tribunal — a public investigation which had been set up to look into allegations of widespread fraud and other irregularities in our meat industry at the time — started to gather its main witnesses to give testimony. One of these was Des O’Malley and another was Albert Reynolds, who had been Minister for Industry and Commerce during part of the period under scrutiny. In 1992, O’Malley was the Minister for Industry and Commerce and he gave evidence about certain information he said he had found in various documents in the Departmental records. When Albert took the stand, he said O’Malley had told untruths and, predictably, all hell broke loose. Albert refused to apologise for his remarks and things reached breaking point. There is no need for me to go into great detail concerning matters which have been so successfully dealt with in other autobiographies — suffice it to say, the PDS pulled out of the coalition and a General Election was called, for November 1992. It looked as if King Albert’s reign would soon be coming to a choppy end.

  We had a dreadful campaign in the run-up to that election: it rained morning, noon and night, and the response to Albert was very poor. The key reasons for this were no doubt that progress in the Northern Peace Process had badly stalled, and also that a gloomy feeling generally abounded, that Fianna Fáil was going to do badly in this election. The final result in November 1992 was not so bad for Fianna Fáil in percentage terms, in fact, but in terms of seats lost, it was not good news at all. With the loss of nine seats in total, for the first time we had become a transfer-unfriendly party. I was glad to have retained my seat, as had Albert Reynolds, but the general result was a bitter disappointment for him. He had clearly hoped that the PDS would be eliminated from the field altogether, while in fact the reverse happened, as they increased their seats from four to ten.

  It seemed that Fianna Fáil was out of the political picture in terms of the forming of a government, but over the Christmas period, matters would change. Attempts were made to start coalition talks between John Bruton of Fine Gael, Proinsias De Rossa of the Democratic Left and Dick Spring of the Labour Party. These proved abortive quite early on and there was a clear animosity between John Bruton and the Democratic Left. While this had been ongoing, Albert Reynolds, who was still acting Taoiseach, went to a European meeting in Edinburgh, at which Ireland was to gain a large slice of the European Social Fund. Before too much of a lacuna could develop, Martin Mansergh had our manifesto ready and informal talks were begun between the Labour Party and Fianna Fáil.

  There were many of us in the party, myself included, who were extremely partial to the idea of an alliance with Labour — and this was ultimately agreed upon. Yet it was clear throughout the tenure of this new Fianna Fáil/Labour government that it irked Albert Reynolds to have to consult widely with Dick Spring, just as it irked him that the office of An Tánaiste was occupied by Dick. You see, Reynolds had always belonged to the school of thought that a one-party government was the ideal and that Fianna Fáil should as such have sole tenure.

  However, the new coalition worked quite satisfactorily as it turned out, and the two parties pulled together in government well enough. On a more individual level, I found this to be the case too, and as Minister of State for Labour with responsibility for Consumer Affairs to Ruairi Quinn as Minister for Employment and Enterprise, I was able to enjoy a close and fruitful working relationship with my senior counterpart. There was never conflict between us and he gave me space on many issues. In relation to this, in fact, I learned from contacts I had within the parliamentary Labour Party that at party meetings of that period, Ruairi was quit
e frequently upbraided by members who were saying such things to him as, ‘Mary O’Rourke is here, she’s there, she’s everywhere — you are giving her far too much leeway and allowing her too much free rein!’ But fortunately Ruairi Quinn is a wise person and he knew that only by the two of us working together like this would we best be able to serve the country — and so this is what we did.

  One area which Ruairi put me in charge of was FÁS. The scheme was then in its heyday, and together we worked out a new community employment programme which would give a boost to FÁS projects all around the country. It was I, in fact, who came up with the slogan — ‘FÁS has changed the face of Ireland’ — and indeed it did during that period of 1993 to 1994 also. Quinn was very worried about long-term unemployment and this was the impetus for the whole Community Employment Project for which I was given full responsibility.

  Looking back now, I so enjoyed that period of my involvement with the Community Employment Project and FÁS. I worked hard at it and I saw Ireland at its best. All over the country, community groups conceived their project — which could be anything from, say, tidy town initiatives to local historical research to architectural development — got their applications together and submitted them to FÁS, where they would go through a vetting procedure. Then, if a project was given the go ahead, a number of people were approved to work on it: they would be taken mostly from the long-term unemployed register. Both Ruairi Quinn and I insisted on rigorous and in-depth training for those who were to be involved in this way and so, many unemployed people got new skills and a renewed sense of purpose in their lives. Whilst the employees’ payments were small, they were regular, the jobs were structured and the contracts could be for up to three years’ duration. There were county exhibits, which we visited. There were prize-giving ceremonies in various areas and there was constant encouragement for the groups to come together and keep in contact. In turn, these projects gave way to a huge flowering in the communities of pride in one’s village or town or area. I feel there is sorely a need for a decent social history of that period and of the close interaction between FÁS and the community groups all over Ireland. The scheme really did change the face of Ireland, and I was so fulfilled and happy to be part of it. And no better comrades in work could be found than Ruairi Quinn and myself. Years later, FÁS was to ‘lose its way’, and now it is broken into different sections, each under the auspices of different Departments.

  I cannot leave this subject without mentioning Dr John Lynch, the then Chairperson and Chief Executive of FÁS, whom I would in fact in later years appoint as Chairperson of CIÉ. John is one of those public servants to whom not enough credit has been given, in relation to the magnificent work he did during his very productive time at FÁS, and certainly in the two years during which I had responsibility for it. A fine, clever, hardworking man, he always sought only to work towards enriching and improving the country, and creating as many opportunities as possible for employment and community pride.

  As well as Ruairi Quinn, there were other Cabinet Ministers in that government with whom I was very impressed. Among these was our own Fianna Fáil Minister for Justice, Máire Geoghegan-Quinn. She had been in Albert’s corner in the previous years when they had flounced out of Charlie Haughey’s Cabinet. When Labour were making the arrangements to go into government with us in 1992, they had said they would not do so if Pádraig Flynn was in Cabinet, hence he was happy to accept the generous offer to become Ireland’s Commissioner for Social Affairs in Europe, and he sailed off to pastures new. Subsequently, Máire Geoghegan-Quinn became Minister for Justice and proved to be more than capable in the post.

  Early on in that two-year Fianna Fáil/Labour regime, Máire brought forward the Bill which finally gave homosexuals their rightful place in society, and which abolished an archaic law dating back to the nineteenth century. It must be pointed out of course that the government was under duress to make this issue a priority. Senator David Norris had brought his case to Europe and won, and there was now an onus upon the government to ensure that the ‘crime’ of homosexuality was wiped from the statute books. Máire moved swiftly and clearly and it is to her credit and the credit of that government that this grossly unfair legislation was made obsolete, and that proper, legal recognition of homosexuality was at last granted.

  Mervyn Taylor was the then Minister for Equality and Law Reform and it fell to him to ensure that all instances of discrimination against gay people in the workplace should be erased. As the Minister of State for Labour Affairs, I was responsible for bringing that piece of legislation through the Seanad and in my own way, I felt very proud to do so and to know that I had contributed in that sense to a wonderful, modern step forward for Ireland. To this day I still meet or hear from people who were helped by that legislation and who are glad of it. I was delighted to make great friends within the Gay and Lesbian Equality Network (GLEN), an organisation which was and is strongly committed to equality in the workplace in all these matters.

  In the summer of 1994, however, relations worsened between Dick Spring and Albert Reynolds. An edginess had begun to creep in to their dealings with each other — there was resentment over the determination of the Labour leader and his party to frequently assert their differences of opinion with their Fianna Fáil colleagues in government, and there was a prickliness on various other things also. Yet it all ostensibly came to a head over the publication of the Beef Tribunal Report.

  There had been an arrangement in place whereby Dick Spring would get a copy of the findings as soon as they were available, and at the same time as Albert. But Albert managed to get them first and holed himself up in the office with his Press Secretary at the time, Seán Duignan — and neither man would come out or answer the phone to Spring. Meanwhile Dick and his advisors had to sit outside, waiting until the Taoiseach had finished with the report. It was only once Albert had been through every line with a fine-tooth comb and had ascertained that he had been found innocent of any misdemeanour that he finally handed the document over to Dick Spring, who was by this time seething, of course. The episode only served to further heighten the tension which already existed between the two men and which would give way to the full-blown discord which ultimately caused a final split in the coalition. All of this began to seep into the newspapers, via ‘authorised sources’, and one way or another, it was not a pretty scene. There was at one point an effort at rapprochement, and apparently when Albert’s and Dick’s paths crossed in a hangar of Casement Airport around that time, it was all sweetness and light between them. But not long after that the Brendan Smyth affair broke, which would put the final nail in the coffin of the coalition.

  There is really no need to go into the Smyth case here, I feel, because it has been so well documented elsewhere. Suffice it to say that the blame began to be laid firmly on the shoulders of the then AG, Harry Whelehan. Now Whelehan had baggage, of course — right-wing baggage. The Labour Party essentially distrusted him because of what they saw as his very conservative disposition and they felt that in some way, he had sought to hide the Brendan Smyth matter and not bring it to the attention of Cabinet or into public view — which, I should stress, was absolutely untrue.

  In the meantime, Albert Reynolds as Taoiseach had proposed making Whelehan the President of the High Court: this was approved at a Cabinet meeting from which Dick Spring and the Labour Ministers had felt they had no option but to withdraw. Nevertheless, Albert now had the bit between his teeth and up he sailed to Mary Robinson, the then President, to have Harry Whelehan ratified. The Labour Party kicked up, but to no avail. The pictures of that visit to Áras an Uachtaráin tell their own story: a stony-faced Mary Robinson, a grim Máire Geoghegan-Quinn as Minister for Justice and a dour Albert Reynolds stand uneasily side-by-side as the necessary documents for the controversial appointment are signed. In the final event, as we know, Whelehan would serve in his new role for only six days.

  It was hardly a surprise when, in the autumn of 1994, Labour dec
ided they wanted out of the coalition. There were frantic efforts between Charlie McCreevy as Minister for Social Welfare, and Ministers Máire Geoghegan-Quinn and Michael Smith to sort out the matter, but these were all in vain. The problematic issues at hand were so petty that to any external observer they did not in themselves warrant a break-up — but of course the cited reasons for break-up were merely symptomatic of a much greater malaise between the two parties. The bottom line, as I have previously indicated, was that Albert did not want to be in a government with any party other than his own, Fianna Fáil, and he greatly resented what I always thought were the proper concerns of a Labour Party determined that they were not going to be done down by the larger party. Seán Duignan (ex-RTÉ), Government Press Secretary at the time, has written of this period in great detail and in an amusing yet thorough fashion in his book, One More Spin on the Merry-Go-Round (Blackwater Press, 1996), which is worth reading for these episodes alone!

  Anyway, there were many discussions and last-ditch efforts to resolve things, and out of these came a new development which seemed to offer hopes for a future between Fianna Fáil and Labour after all. Formal soundings were sent out between Fianna Fáil and Labour, and it appeared that Labour might be willing to stay in government if there was a new leader in Fianna Fáil — Bertie Ahern. We all perked up, particularly those of us in the lower ranks, some of whom had worked hard and got on well with our Labour bosses and counterparts, as was the case with Ruairi Quinn and myself.