Leo Varadkar has an uncanny ability to attract a negative reaction

But at least for Leo it means time away from the “failed staters” berating him from one side, and the flag-waving nationalists haranguing him from the other.

Though even in Washington he isn’t immune to disapproval from home.

He has been criticised for choosing to have lunch privately, rather than with business executives after a meeting with them. Apparently, no one is entitled to any time alone. And his joke about being an intern in Washington was a good one — but received predictable criticism.

No matter what he does, if there is a negative spin that can be put on it then it’ll be put on it.

Whether it’s having a picnic with friends or preparing his meals for the week, whatever he does is the subject of intense and usually irrational criticism and abuse that others would not receive.

Even his admirable decision to take a Ukrainian refugee into his home has been interpreted by some as virtue-signalling.

Had another politician done it, it would not have been regarded that way — but Varadkar will never get a sympathetic hearing.

He has done something few politicians ever manage to do — unite a coalition of those with disparate views.

The problem is that they united against him.

For many on the political extremes, there is a visceral loathing of Varadkar that Micheál Martin would never get — even from those who dislike Martin.

Any other politician who receives the type of abuse Varadkar gets would get sympathy from almost everyone — but with him it is as if some think he deserves it.​

It wasn’t always this way.

When he became Fine Gael leader, Leo Varadkar was the bright young thing — the Holly Cairns of his time. Having made his name as the guy who told it like it was, he was a media darling, always sure to say something mildly controversial, but usually common sensical.

He was the exciting choice for Fine Gael over the dull Simon Coveney. Leo was different. Crowds of admirers mobbed him. Fine Gael immediately jumped in the polls after years of electoral underachievement under Enda. The party was about to get a bounce.

But something went wrong.

It’s hardly his class. Almost all the left in Ireland is led by middle-class people with posh accents. Was he a disappointment to activists who thought the gay son of an immigrant wasn’t quite what they had hoped?

Certainly, for those on the liberal left, Varadkar’s politics wasn’t what they thought it should be, given his ‘identity’.

He never banged on about it the way they do. They may have felt he should have been one of them, and so struggle to understand his mainstream politics.

For the ethno-nationalists on other side, the Taoiseach’s sexuality and his heritage are evidence of his culpability of being a cheerleader for Ireland’s entry into a global world order.

He is overseeing a surge in migration — which they think is a deliberate plan, rather than the result of an unstable geo-political situation.

One problem Varadkar has is his perceived lack of empathy. He doesn’t seem “authentic” enough. He doesn’t emote like Micheál Martin or Mary Lou McDonald. He’s not touchy-feely.

But these are problems for the loons who populate social media, not for ordinary voters.

His is an authentic technocracy — but his problem is that it’s not even his technocracy.

When we come to judge Varadkar, we might conclude that he was unlucky taking over as he did. It is usually better to enter government from opposition, not as a continuation of essentially the same government.

To make matters worse, it was a stable but impotent minority government, with an agenda set by the opposition.

Even within his government he didn’t assert himself, keeping most of Enda Kenny’s cabinet. By the 2020 election we might have expected to know what a Varadkar government stood for, but it wasn’t really his government.

The 2020 election delivered an even worse result, disabusing us of any idea that Varadkar was an electoral superstar.

He was once change personified, but his star had waned. And by going into government with Fianna Fáil and the Greens, Varadkar ensured there was likely never going to be a truly authentic Varadkar government.

The party’s long period in office hasn’t established it as a source of power. It has instead just bred contempt — contempt some now hold for Varadkar.

People should go easy on him, but he should be harder on himself.

As he sets out on his second term as Taoiseach, Leo Varadkar should decide what he stands for.​

Eoin O’Malley teaches politics at Dublin City University