For the past few weeks, I’ve been swapping thoughts with our senior political correspondent, Pat Leahy, about the enduring conflict between two dominant figures from 1980s Irish politics, Charles Haughey and Garret FitzGerald. Our conversation highlights how each individual epitomised their respective political party, which remains fascinating even four decades later as Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael – commonly portrayed as two peas in the same pod of Irish politics – inch progressively towards unity, driven by the momentum of a four-year coalition.
We venture into discussing the starkly divergent attitudes that Haughey and FitzGerald, and by inference their parties, held towards the arts and creativity. To put it plainly, one man had a defined but arguably flawed and self-interested cultural policy, whilst the other had none.
Interestingly, the two most monumental political figures in shaping the bond between the State and artistic factions don’t hail from the Fianna Fáil or Fine Gael parties. There’s a twenty-five-year gap between the governmental stints of Michael D Higgins and Catherine Martin, but these two culture ministers – one from Labour and the other from the Green party – predominantly forged the State support we see today.
Charles Haughey isn’t far behind. His influence can be traced back to his tenure as Finance Minister in the late 60s when he implemented tax-free benefits for artists, later founding Aosdána in 1981, and later still marking Temple Bar as Dublin’s ‘cultural hub’ in the late 80s. He had a distinctive vision of the role of the State (or perhaps his own personal involvement) in promoting the arts.
As we edge closer to the general election, it begs the question of which politicians have most significantly contributed to Irish culture. In a world where the government’s rigid refusal to abolish the license fee reveals a sorely limited grasp of the media landscape, while ‘citizen journalism’ exposes us to some of the most toxic individuals, it’s a question worthy of consideration.
No initiative is immune to criticism, and all have experienced varied results. The tax-free privilege, although nowadays limited to a degree where it no longer acts as a lure for international music sensations and top-selling authors, still plays a less recognised role in supporting artists to earn a living from their craft. Aosdána may appear to be more akin to a comfort home rather than a vibrant community of active artists at their top form, but it does offer formal recognition and a small allowance to those who require it.
Temple Bar, known as a tourist trap littered with beer cans, may not meet the initial expectations, but the place was at least rescued from demolition, and a few key cultural venues were created and continue to operate there.
In his novel, Taoisigh and the Arts, Kevin Rafter points out Haughey’s lack of sufficient funding to the Arts Council, claiming he was “no different from his forerunners”. Rafter, who himself is a previous chairman of the Arts Council, condemns Haughey’s tendency to favour direct patronage via public funding, which “unquestionably stoked his self-image as a Medici for the arts”.
Certainly, all of this is true and rhymes with everything else known about Haughey. However, these plans wouldn’t have come to fruition in the absence of his vigour and political acumen. Capital ventures like the remodelling of the present Government Buildings and the establishment of the Irish Museum of Modern Art at the Royal Hospital Kilmainham can be included in his accomplishments.
Meanwhile, what did FitzGerald or Fine Gael bring to the table? The administration he directed from 1982 to 1987, plagued by fiscal struggles, displayed scant interest in the arts (even though it saw the nomination of the first junior minister for the arts, ex-journalist Ted Nealon).
It’s not uncommon for centre-right political parties to display indifference or even outright antagonism to the concept of state-owned creative industries. This is reflected in the decade of deliberate cultural destruction by the UK Conservatives.
Fine Gael, in spite of being devoid of direct aggression, still appears mysteriously uninterested. The party isn’t crammed with people lacking cultural knowledge either. FitzGerald was raised in an environment where creative intellects like artists and writers were commonplace. However, he – similar to his subsequent leaders such as John Bruton, Enda Kenny, and Leo Varadkar – didn’t display a genuine interest in the arts besides leveraging the moments for impromptu photo shoots or a notable speech quote.
Although still in operation, the Creative Ireland programme, initiated amid grand publicity during Varadkar’s 2017 leadership, with the aim of uniting ‘people, creativity, and wellbeing’. However, if you look beyond the press marketing, you’ll uncover a chain of quite unassuming educational and social projects.
It was with the onset of the Covid pandemic and the working group introduced by Martin upon becoming Minister that caused a major shift. Maybe the key takeaway for electors with an imminent General Election is that only minor parties truly respect and value culture.