Master debaters

The party leaders had contrasting fortunes in last week's debates.

Not since the days of my youth, when I watched wrestling, was I so looking forward to a bout like this. Four leaders - Rabbitte, McDowell, Sargent and Adams - taking eachother on what would no doubt be a fiery apocalyptic bloodbath. And while the Battle Royale hadn’t as much hair flying as I thought it might, it was an entertaining night’s watching nonetheless.

In a way you had to feel sorry for Michael McDowell, surrounded as he was by a bunch of lefties with which he was clearly uncomfortable. Then again, you get the impression that McDowell is uncomfortable with anyone left of Margaret Thatcher. While the more PD-friendly people I know thought he was excellent (not that I know pucks of them, mind), most everyone else I talked to was far from impressed. Lashing epithets all around him (“the left, the far left and the leftovers” being his standout line); rather than promoting his own party’s ideas positively, he seemed happy to attack everyone else with his message of doom, claiming they’d all run the economy into the ground and steal your kids for slave labour.

He saved the brunt of his acid tongue for Gerry Adams though. Never a huge fan of the Shinners, McDowell made references to his time in the Army Council and suggested the Northern Bank owned his house. Maybe I’m expecting too much from the nations’ second in command, but I honestly thought he’d be above making puerile digs at another party leader’s past, substantiated or otherwise, especially since we’ve heard him say the same thing umpteen times before.

All this played right into the hands of Gerry Adams, who’d otherwise be disappointed with his performance. While defending himself and his party against personal accusations is his strong point, he seemed ill-at-ease discussing economics and was very repetitive, mentioning “rights” an inordinate amount of times. In fact, I’m genuinely wondering why an MP who isn’t even running in the election took up the mantle, especially considering their current TD’s need all the experience they can get.

Pat Rabbitte on the other hand was quiet but effective, with his description of McDowell as a “menopausal Paris Hilton” the burn of the night. The winner of the debate though was Trevor Sargent, who was largely expected to be a spectator in a glorified “Yo’ Mamma” contest between the other three, but he surprised everyone by standing firm in light of attacks, and generally being the one who kept on message and on question the best. He’ll have done his chances of getting extra seats no harm, that’s for sure.

The following night wasn’t nearly as explosive, alas. Bertie vs. Enda was never going to be a contest of Foreman vs. Ali proportions, and boy wasn’t it. Although most of the media outlets have awarded the win to Bertie, I can’t in good conscience follow suit. For Bertie, who had ten years more experience, a win for him would have been to pummel Enda into an unrecognisable wreck, which he simply didn’t do. Granted, he’d the upper hand on him a few times, but that wasn’t enough. Enda just had to make sure he didn’t bang his head off the podium and prove he was, at least, a safe pair of hands. Spectacular he wasn’t, but he didn’t need to be. The debates won’t decide the election, but they did offer a taste of what we can expect for the next session of the Dáil.

By: Paddy Duffy

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