30 May 2002 Edition
They said it couldn't be done
BY JIM GIBNEY
In 1981, Paddy Agnew heard about his election in a prison cell in the H-Blocks, dressed only in a blanket. Arthur Morgan's cell wasn't too far away from Paddy's
A beautiful moment last week burst through the exhaustion of watching Nicky Kehoe's prospects of getting elected slip slowly away like melting snow on a ditch under the glare of a winter sun.
It was close to 2am on Sunday morning. The count at Dublin's RDS had started at 9am the previous day. Nicky and his election team had put up a Herculean battle for the fourth seat in Dublin Central, only falling behind on the second-last count.
But back to my beautiful moment. As we left Nicky's count, deflated, for the greener pastures of Aengus Ó Snodaigh's count close by, I saw Sean Brady, Dublin Sinn Féin's Director of Elections, smiling broadly, as he ran towards Aengus with his arms outstretched. They embraced; Aengus was swept off his feet and they pirouetted together as if on a dance floor while Aengus shouted: "They said it couldn't be done. They said it couldn't be done."
As we waited for Aengus to be declared elected, Director of Publicity Dawn Doyle brought us more good news: Arthur Morgan was five minutes away from being elected for Louth. Mitchel McLaughlin's earlier comments hit home: "You wouldn't know where to begin celebrating."
As I left the RDS at 2 30am I remembered RTÉ's Charlie Bird's prediction of the previous week: 'a hatful of seats' for Sinn Féin. It was that and more.
As I had stood outside Ard Oifig in Parnell Square at 8am on Saturday, the two Irelands of inequality which Gerry Adams talked about during the election campaign symbolically passed by. One was on the back of a trailer; a huge yacht called 'Wild Mustard' and the other was a street cleaner who eagerly engaged me for news of how Sinn Féin had done.
We got an early indication of the upward swing in the Sinn Féin graph when the tally sheets started to arrive from the RDS shortly after 10am.
For the next three hours there was a virtual non-stop trail of faxes emanating from Fianna Fáil's tally operation at the RDS to our election centre. It was a sight to behold. The story of Aengus Ó Snodaigh's rise from the streets of his constituency of Dublin South Central to Dáil Éireann was recorded practically minute by minute.
The first fax, timed at 10:06am, had Aengus in second place in a cluttered field of fifteen candidates. He had 1,822 votes, 15.49%. First in the field was a Fianna Fáiler with 2,168 votes and 18.43%. The second fax, timed 10:37am, had Aengus in the lead with 2,632 votes, 200 ahead of Fianna Fáil. And so the pattern was established: 10:50am, 11:16am, 11:30am, 11:53 am, 12:09pm, 12:37pm. Aengus led the way. The last fax showed him with 5,123 votes. By this time his nearest rival was Gay Mitchel of Fine Gael, with 4,720 votes.
Other faxes told a similar and equally spectacular story. Dessie Ellis's result was nothing short of amazing. In a three-seat constituency, the tightest contest of all, he narrowly missed the seat. It was breathtaking.
Just before lunchtime Lucilita Bhreatnach, overall Director of Elections, brought the news that it was only a matter of whether Sean Crowe, Martin Ferris and Caoimhghín Ó Caoláin topped their respective polls, but they were in. And top the poll they did.
I thought the day couldn't get better but it did. The sweet smell of success from North Kerry got even sweeter as the news filtered through that Dick Spring was tottering on the brink of defeat. The former leader of the Labour Party and Minister for Foreign Affairs had retired from politics and only re-entered the contest to try to prevent Martin Ferris from being elected. And now he was staring into the abyss of popular rejection.
At 2:45pm I heard the first interview given by Sean Crowe after his election on RTÉ radio. The interviewer said: "And it's now over to the newly elected Sean Crowe, TD". The words 'TD' brought a lump to my throat as I thought about the difficult and frustrating electoral journey republicans in the 26 Counties had been on. I phoned 'Pajo', one of Sean's key election workers and asked him where the party was. "Any field will do," he said.
In the earlier part of the day, great news filtered through that Austin Currie had polled just over 2,000 votes. He was in deep trouble. He mightn't survive. The man who advocated standing against Bobby Sands in Fermanagh/South Tyrone in the 1981 election when he was dying on hunger strike; the man who called on people to go on a rent and rates strike in protest at internment and then punished them with fines and seizure of their cattle when he got into political power in 1974 for taking his advice, was finally getting his just reward.
Close to 5pm, a whoop of delight from the press office greeted his formal public humiliation.
There were other high points as well. Ruairi Quinn, leader of the Labour Party, was in trouble. He might go the same way as his former leader. But in a bitter sweet turn of events Daithi Doolan on a white charger named Sinn Féin rescued him, with transfers ensuring he was returned to Leinster House.
Daithí should take a leaf out of Sean Crowe's book. In 1997 he failed to get elected and his transfers elected Mary Harney, leader of the PDs. Not wanting to depend on republicans again, Mary upped her tent and pitched it elsewhere. Mary left and Sean got elected. There's a message in there for Daithí.
Pat Doherty, MP for West Tyrone, gave me the best story of the count. In Louth, there were great scenes of jubilation. Arthur Morgan TD was being carried shoulder high around the place like a hero. Paddy Agnew, a witness and participant in the celebrations, was heard to remark to a comrade: "That's the bit I missed". Paddy was elected TD for Louth in 1981 when Kieran Doherty was also elected for Cavan/Monaghan. Then, Paddy heard about his election in a prison cell in the H-Blocks dressed only in a blanket. Arthur Morgan's cell wasn't too far away from Paddy's.
Twenty years is a long time to wait to see such scenes but one thing is certain from the election result it won't be another 20 years before more republicans are carried shoulder high to the Dáil.
In 1981, Paddy Agnew heard about his election in a prison cell in the H-Blocks, dressed only in a blanket. Arthur Morgan's cell wasn't too far away from Paddy's
In 1981, Paddy Agnew heard about his election in a prison cell in the H-Blocks, dressed only in a blanket. Arthur Morgan's cell wasn't too far away from Paddy's
A beautiful moment last week burst through the exhaustion of watching Nicky Kehoe's prospects of getting elected slip slowly away like melting snow on a ditch under the glare of a winter sun.
It was close to 2am on Sunday morning. The count at Dublin's RDS had started at 9am the previous day. Nicky and his election team had put up a Herculean battle for the fourth seat in Dublin Central, only falling behind on the second-last count.
But back to my beautiful moment. As we left Nicky's count, deflated, for the greener pastures of Aengus Ó Snodaigh's count close by, I saw Sean Brady, Dublin Sinn Féin's Director of Elections, smiling broadly, as he ran towards Aengus with his arms outstretched. They embraced; Aengus was swept off his feet and they pirouetted together as if on a dance floor while Aengus shouted: "They said it couldn't be done. They said it couldn't be done."
As we waited for Aengus to be declared elected, Director of Publicity Dawn Doyle brought us more good news: Arthur Morgan was five minutes away from being elected for Louth. Mitchel McLaughlin's earlier comments hit home: "You wouldn't know where to begin celebrating."
As I left the RDS at 2 30am I remembered RTÉ's Charlie Bird's prediction of the previous week: 'a hatful of seats' for Sinn Féin. It was that and more.
As I had stood outside Ard Oifig in Parnell Square at 8am on Saturday, the two Irelands of inequality which Gerry Adams talked about during the election campaign symbolically passed by. One was on the back of a trailer; a huge yacht called 'Wild Mustard' and the other was a street cleaner who eagerly engaged me for news of how Sinn Féin had done.
We got an early indication of the upward swing in the Sinn Féin graph when the tally sheets started to arrive from the RDS shortly after 10am.
For the next three hours there was a virtual non-stop trail of faxes emanating from Fianna Fáil's tally operation at the RDS to our election centre. It was a sight to behold. The story of Aengus Ó Snodaigh's rise from the streets of his constituency of Dublin South Central to Dáil Éireann was recorded practically minute by minute.
The first fax, timed at 10:06am, had Aengus in second place in a cluttered field of fifteen candidates. He had 1,822 votes, 15.49%. First in the field was a Fianna Fáiler with 2,168 votes and 18.43%. The second fax, timed 10:37am, had Aengus in the lead with 2,632 votes, 200 ahead of Fianna Fáil. And so the pattern was established: 10:50am, 11:16am, 11:30am, 11:53 am, 12:09pm, 12:37pm. Aengus led the way. The last fax showed him with 5,123 votes. By this time his nearest rival was Gay Mitchel of Fine Gael, with 4,720 votes.
Other faxes told a similar and equally spectacular story. Dessie Ellis's result was nothing short of amazing. In a three-seat constituency, the tightest contest of all, he narrowly missed the seat. It was breathtaking.
Just before lunchtime Lucilita Bhreatnach, overall Director of Elections, brought the news that it was only a matter of whether Sean Crowe, Martin Ferris and Caoimhghín Ó Caoláin topped their respective polls, but they were in. And top the poll they did.
I thought the day couldn't get better but it did. The sweet smell of success from North Kerry got even sweeter as the news filtered through that Dick Spring was tottering on the brink of defeat. The former leader of the Labour Party and Minister for Foreign Affairs had retired from politics and only re-entered the contest to try to prevent Martin Ferris from being elected. And now he was staring into the abyss of popular rejection.
At 2:45pm I heard the first interview given by Sean Crowe after his election on RTÉ radio. The interviewer said: "And it's now over to the newly elected Sean Crowe, TD". The words 'TD' brought a lump to my throat as I thought about the difficult and frustrating electoral journey republicans in the 26 Counties had been on. I phoned 'Pajo', one of Sean's key election workers and asked him where the party was. "Any field will do," he said.
In the earlier part of the day, great news filtered through that Austin Currie had polled just over 2,000 votes. He was in deep trouble. He mightn't survive. The man who advocated standing against Bobby Sands in Fermanagh/South Tyrone in the 1981 election when he was dying on hunger strike; the man who called on people to go on a rent and rates strike in protest at internment and then punished them with fines and seizure of their cattle when he got into political power in 1974 for taking his advice, was finally getting his just reward.
Close to 5pm, a whoop of delight from the press office greeted his formal public humiliation.
There were other high points as well. Ruairi Quinn, leader of the Labour Party, was in trouble. He might go the same way as his former leader. But in a bitter sweet turn of events Daithi Doolan on a white charger named Sinn Féin rescued him, with transfers ensuring he was returned to Leinster House.
Daithí should take a leaf out of Sean Crowe's book. In 1997 he failed to get elected and his transfers elected Mary Harney, leader of the PDs. Not wanting to depend on republicans again, Mary upped her tent and pitched it elsewhere. Mary left and Sean got elected. There's a message in there for Daithí.
Pat Doherty, MP for West Tyrone, gave me the best story of the count. In Louth, there were great scenes of jubilation. Arthur Morgan TD was being carried shoulder high around the place like a hero. Paddy Agnew, a witness and participant in the celebrations, was heard to remark to a comrade: "That's the bit I missed". Paddy was elected TD for Louth in 1981 when Kieran Doherty was also elected for Cavan/Monaghan. Then, Paddy heard about his election in a prison cell in the H-Blocks dressed only in a blanket. Arthur Morgan's cell wasn't too far away from Paddy's.
Twenty years is a long time to wait to see such scenes but one thing is certain from the election result it won't be another 20 years before more republicans are carried shoulder high to the Dáil.
In 1981, Paddy Agnew heard about his election in a prison cell in the H-Blocks, dressed only in a blanket. Arthur Morgan's cell wasn't too far away from Paddy's