The stage was set, the lights brightened and a lone figure emerged on to the platform. There was no entertainment before the oratory this time, informing us that the mood would continue to be somber, sober and serious. The day had passed quickly, with small groups of people moving from one busy hall to the next, each room holding a gathering discussing Education, or Small Business, or Party Policy. Not even the hoards of canvassers could deter the determined men and women, young and old in what they saw as their mission, as their duty. But while the people moved to a chorus of “grassroots”, “Renewal”, and “Change”, the most striking decisions this time were not made in any of the many workshops, they were made by the members in one of the biggest organizational changes in the Party’s history.
“One Member, One Vote” was the turning point of this Árd Fheis; it was what everything relied on and, in turn, what everything revolved around. The hall was packed with delegates from every corner of the country; north and south, to debate the issue that we could see empower the ordinary members and give them the role that they so desperately wanted and deserved. There were seventeen motions on debate and most proponents were extremely wary of what was to come. Their fears were quelled quickly and an audible buzz of excitement filled the room when the first of the motions and then all subsequent motions were passed by massive majorities, if not unanimously. Finally the members had a voice.
But what struck me most about that scene in the Shelbourne Hall was not the huge number of people there, we expected this to be a focal point, rather it was the actions of our leader. We had become accustomed to leaders sitting at top tables in debates, watching while votes took place and whispered conversations amongst the high and mighty beside them. This was different; while Micheál Martin sat at a top table, he did not lord it over those who had turned up. When voting took place, Micheál as a member raised his delegate pass and voted, not as a leader, but as a member, the same as any of the rest of us standing there. It was a simple gesture, but an important one.
As I said, the stage had been set, and we watched Robert Troy take to the stage, our faces untelling and skeptical if I am to be honest. What we weren’t expecting was the speech we got, like a rally cry we soon found ourselves caught up in the hysteria, with the back-slapping and wooping that I feared this Árd Fheis could not bring. By the time Robert finished the mood had gone from somber to sheer excitement, would this be the beginning of our fight back?
And then he arrived and we all leapt to our feet as he moved through us to the podium, a member rather than a figurehead. When the applause finally subsided we got what we had come for. We got the apology we had so long hoped would come; we got the pro-Europe message we had feared was threatened; and most importantly we got the reassurance that we would not promote opposition for oppositions sake. With a level-headed and principled man at the helm we as a party had matured, had accepted our failings and were determined to move ahead and try to change how politics worked in this country. Something that we could not achieve without the apology we finally, publicly, espoused.
I was always told by the older members of the party, that Fianna Fáil performed best when pushed up against a wall. It was hard to see though, this time, how we could rally ourselves when we had not merely been pushed up against a wall but were rightly pushed straight through it. But we did, and it looks like this is not the end after all. The clouds are beginning to clear and light is once again coming through, albeit a very dim light still. Reporters and speculators had written Fianna Fáil off, they had said we were finished, but the RDS this weekend told a different story. It told a story of a party that had lost its was rather than declined; that had moved away from its members rather than its members moving away from it; and that was finally ready to offer an alternative.
If there was one thing I learned from this weekend it was that, you write Fianna Fáil off at your own peril. An organization that bears the similarity to a national movement rather than a single party will never truly disappear. Our numbers in the Dáil may be few and our resources may be meek but inside each and every one of our hearts lies the spark that will ignite a thousand searing flames. To echo the words of Ted Kennedy, "the work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never die."
Ar Aghaidh le Fianna Fáil
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