At first, the idea seemed appealing: hold dual referendums on International Women’s Day, embrace the outcomes on the next day, and go into full celebration mode on Mother’s Day. This would lead to women’s support, or so was the thought.
However, the pitch was deemed “chauvinistic and condescending,” according to critics of the proposal. Some of these critics were of the opinion that a healthy dose of condescension and male dominance never did women any harm.
Voters however, didn’t share this sentiment and dispensed an unprecedented thrashing to both the Government and the Opposition parties, excluding one – Aontú, a party with single TD, helmed by Peadar Tóibín, who did an admirable job.
The referendum on care witnessed the largest No-vote of any referendum in the state’s history.
However, among the many figures attributable to the triumph, Senator Michael McDowell was unanimously recognized as the chief architect behind the No campaign and thus the principal victor.
Renowned for his legal prowess, a speechless McDowell could only beam on Saturday, once the full extent of the Government’s defeat came to light. He seemed to revel as the nation’s distinguished political forces were swallowed by the landslide.
Varadkar, the Taoiseach, tried quoting the old maxim about victory while attempting to remain upbeat about the crushing defeat, “Victory has many fathers, defeat is an orphan. Many people got this wrong.”
Clearly, Varadkar wasn’t keen to assume responsibility of the referendum results even though he had proudly embraced them as his own prior to the results . Success may have many fathers indeed, but failure too has many scapegoats. This seemed to provide Varadkar some solace amidst the debacle.
In the wake of such a brutal refusal, Varadkar appeared almost detached from the destruction. He was indeed guarded from the unpleasantness occurring in the courtyard, as people armed with selfie-sticks and confrontational attitudes paraded the cobblestones while live-yelling into their own world of madness.
Leader of Sinn Féin, Mary Lou McDonald, had no choice but to quickly withdraw from a media session with dignity when the crowd shifted from making loud inquiries to hurling offensive remarks at her on behalf of “the Irish populace”.
“Do you understand the meaning of a woman, Mary?” they chanted.
“Traitor! Traitor!” they bellowed.
One woman, notorious for being an early follower of right-wing conspiracy theorist Gemma O’Doherty, stepped forward, phone and selfie-stick in hand. “Do you think [Minister for Children, Equality, Disability, Integration and Youth] Roderic [O’Gorman] should step down?”
McDonald glanced around, furrowing her brows.
“She’s asking: do you believe Roderic should step down?” a man next to her shouted.
The leader of Sinn Féin readied herself to leave the chaos. Senator Lynn Boylan stood by her side.
“Stop nudging me with your elbow,” the confrontational older woman sniped at a confused Boylan. “I would appreciate it if you do not attack me, please.”
Civil behavior, it seems, was expected only from one party.
“She’s a senior citizen, show some respect,” bellowed her oblivious companion, oblivious to his own irony.
For the ambitiously alternative Sinn Féin, this was their worst fear come true – community advocates disturbed in their sleep by nightmares of their ‘Time For Change’ T-shirts soaked in perspiration.
While all this was happening, a side door was subtly unfastened to allow a few journalists and staff to exit without being pursued or harassed. More police officers arrived at the site following the Mary “Get lost, no one desires your presence” Lou heckling, and security was strengthened.
On this tumultuous day, only three Government representatives made an appearance. Just three.
Stepping through the grand gates, State Minister for Media, Thomas Byrne, promptly exchanged cordial greetings with McDowell and partook in several interviews. Roderic O’Gorman and the Taoiseach opted for an alternate entrance, holding separate briefings in a high-level room within the castle, reachable only by a spiral stairway.
O’Gorman appeared isolated, while Varadkar was accompanied by a host of top-level counsellors, including some belonging to Tánaiste’s staff who had an observational role. Tánaiste Micheál Martin was stationed in Cork, reportedly more content there than any other location.
Contrary to expectation, neither O’Gorman nor Varadkar dared to roam around the cobble-stones nor did they linger for the official proclamation of the verdict. Much to Michael O’Dowd, godfather of the Equality Not Care collective’s disappointment, he said, “It’s a gross letdown that there isn’t any governmental representative present.”
Having confidently foreshadowed a two-fold victory a week prior, a dispirited O’Gorman battled to mask his disappointment at the result. From his end, Varadkar casually made his entrance, all prepared to accept the impending turmoil of this recklessly planned constitutional endeavour as a mutual fiasco.
After a string of excuses, he yielded, “Clearly, we messed up.” He then proceeded to elucidate on the evident missteps so intricately that it became baffling as to how he failed to spot them when they had been pointed out from within and beyond Leinster House.
Regardless, the Government’s intentions were honourable; the populace holds the power, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, and now it’s a case of moving forward.
But the crucial question that remains unanswered is who initially decided to organise the referendums on International Women’s Day, especially when the choice of words, tone and overall implication of the entire operation were causing uncertainty?
The Taoiseach feebly countered, “It was never a specific consideration,” whilst trivializing the whole matter by prattling on about shifting timelines and dates. “There wasn’t a specific reason behind the chosen day, if you catch my drift,” he stammered.
He departed without revealing his means. It’s possible he mimicked Red Hugh O’Donnell’s famed escape from the fortress, perhaps using an underground branch of the River Poddle, assisted by his top advisors.
Prior to his hasty exit, Leo might have seen a substantial crowd of Fine Gael supporters hastily reversing their movements as a result of a bafflingly clumsy campaign. This group was greatly increased by political followers from Fianna Fáil, the Greens, Sinn Féin, Labour, Social Democrats, all now ruing not moving quickly enough before binding themselves to the government’s erroneous designs.
As numerous influential Coalition members conspicuously disappeared into the vegetation, Opposition leaders were zealously showcasing their exceptions for the media to examine.
Their ultimate wish was for better conditions for disabled citizens, caregivers, families, and women. Despite profound second thoughts, they chose two affirmative votes. Against their better judgement, they carried on, fully aware that the government would mishandle everything.
Were they not proven correct?
For the ambitious Sinn Féin, it’s a terrifying prospect – grassroots organisers waking up in the dead of night, their “Time For Change” T-shirts soaked in sweat, haunted by visions of Leo Varadkar mocking them: “We are all part of The Establishment now!”
Conversely, an assortment of unexpected allies found themselves holding an exceptional Royal Flush: the defeat of all three Coalition partners and the main Opposition parties.
All exit, leaving behind an empty space.
However, these unlikely allies are gearing up to occupy that void. Aontú’s Tóibín and Independent Senator Ronán Mullen, along with their revitalised religious right companions, are eyeing up their opportunity.
Those advocating for genuine, rather than symbolic, equality for caregivers and disabled individuals feel this vote could mark a pivotal moment for their cause.
Attention turned to McDowell, who was standing amidst a line of fellow Independents, their arms interconnected. Once the result was made public, they exulted and celebrated as if they were general election victors.
Michael McDowell, previous leader of the Progressive Democrats and former tánaiste, has been revitalised since spearheading the No campaign and prompting serious voter deliberation. He’s stirring up rumours of a potential return to politics. McDowell’s charisma was on full display on Saturday, where he was adored by the No camp and celebrated by fellow Independent Senators and a handful of independent TDs. An online buzz circulated around the idea of “McDowell for President”.
When questioned about possible presidential aspirations, McDowell jestingly shot down the idea suggesting his dog, Duke, may not warm up to the idea of Park life. In the same vein, when asked about the whispers of a new political party gaining traction recently, he delivered a simple “NO COMMENT”.
McDowell, a senior counsel, clarified that he was challenging the Leinster House establishment not for political motives, but due to proposed government amendments he perceived as disrespectful to the Constitution, thus his dedication to his Law Library attire during public appearances.
When asked if confusing language was his issue, McDowell dismissed it and stated it was more about “wokeism” and “demeaning window-dressing”. Pro-No campaigners on the streets echoed this sentiment with banners reading “Woke is Dead”.
The No campaign represented a broad range of views, a fact McDowell felt the Government failed to recognise. Despite differing from some of his conservative counterparts, McDowell advocated for a unifying message: “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”.
As the results were announced, a modest crowd formed in the grand hall. Cameras turned to McDowell, flanked by fellow Independents, their arms intertwined in camaraderie. The announcement was greeted with jubilant cheers akin to those of general election victors. Among these were Independent TDs Noel Grealish, Marian Harkin, and Verona Murphy, as well as Senators from the Independent group, Mullen, Gerry Craughwell, and Sharon Keogan.
In the vicinity of advocates for the disabled, Tom Clonan, an autonomous senator, elected to position himself distantly. Ann Marie Flanagan, representative of the Equality Not Care campaign, expressed their shared disinterest in gaining public attention with a cordial grin. The outcome they had desired and their subsequent “justification” were already granted.
Post the proclamation, a faction of the ensemble relocated to a celebratory gathering at Geraldine Breen’s residence – situated in Ranelagh. Breen was long known as the reliable assistant of McDowell during his tenure in the PDs.
Just prior to the announcement, he pulled out a copy of the Constitution, neatly tucked in his waistcoat pocket. Far from a dog-eared edition, this one was absolutely fresh.
“Unsullied and sacred,” he uttered with a hum.