How Pat found his way out of the political wilderness
WHY did Pat Rabbitte go now, in the dog days of August? Did he willingly jump over the side of the Ship of State, or was he forced to walk the plank?
Blame west Kerry. It was long contemplative walks in the Kingdom that did it for the Labour leader.
During his post-election peregrinations through the arboreal glades of Jackie Healy-Rae country, he realised that he could suddenly distinguish the wood from the trees, and that it was time to head for the political hills.
"I've been reflecting on this in recent weeks in the hills of west Kerry," he began his formal resignation speech in a stuffy room in the RHA building, a few minutes' walk from Leinster House.
"My immediate reaction after the election was that I had until next year to postpone that decision, but in the context of the loneliness of west Kerry I was required to focus on that," he explained.
At a time of the summer when politicians tend to pack their bags purely as a prelude to a fortnight in the sun, Pat Rabbitte's decision to step down as leader of the Labour Party took most political watchers by surprise.
Scrum
He arrived to the press conference amid a scrum of TV cameras and reporters and a flurry of conspiracy theories from political reporters suddenly roused from their summer torpor. And after a couple of months of taking pictures of nothing but rain and lovely girls at race-tracks, the photographers lost the run of themselves entirely, their frantic flash-bulbs briefly turning Pat and Liz McManus into the Brangelina of Baggot Street.
But there was no wicked plot, just Pat and his woody walks.
"It seemed to me that putting off the decision until halfway into the lifetime of the new Dail was not the responsible way to go," he said firmly -- a statement which may well shiver the timbers of the leaders of Fine Gael and Fianna Fail, the last two party bosses to survive the upheavals of last May's election.
In fact, it's a shame that his fellow plank-walker, Michael McDowell, hadn't chilled in a copse before making his decision to step down as leader of the PDs thereby sparing himself a most undignified exit on election night.
But teak-tough Pat was the picture of calm in the middle of the tempest. He even kicked off the press conference with a gag.
Commencing his speech, he began: "We're here to launch a document on the tumult in the financial markets, with particular focus on the derivatives market".
He paused, as the entire press pack went into silent panic. "Now I have all your attention..." he deadpanned.
But it wasn't really an occasion for levity. Despite delivering a mea culpa for his party's poor showing in the election by pointing out that Labour "had failed to replace the existing government ... as Leader I take responsibility for that outcome", Pat had fewer regrets than Frank Sinatra. Or if he had a few, they were too few to mention.
He defended his decision to form the Mullingar Accord with Enda Kenny and Fine Gael -- "I remain absolutely convinced that it was correct at this time to offer the people the choice of an alternative reforming government," he said stoutly.
Coalition
He also regretted rein about his decision to turn down coalition with Fianna Fail.
"It wasn't wrong. I have never changed my view and my conviction is stronger now than it ever was," he declared. Perhaps the influence of Kerry on Pat stretches out of the forests and back to Dick Spring's disastrous decision to form a government with Fianna Fail in 1992.
Nor could he be drawn upon to anoint a successor, even though among the hats destined for the ring will be the elegant chapeau of his deputy, Liz McManus who sat demurely beside him throughout the press conference.
Liz had dressed with such care -- smart jade dress, cream clutch and black clutch bag -- and had some pages of typed notes ready for a speech.
But she never got a chance, apart from what seemed to be a carefully rehearsed soundbite about her above mentioned hat.
"As I've just taken the hot seat, I think I'll wait until it cools down a bit before I make any decision in that regard," she recited. Now that the King is dead, Liz just might be the Queen-in-Waiting.
