In Praise of Presidents

Desmond Clifford

Recently I heard Ireland’s former president Mary Robinson speak in Cardiff. She was the first woman elected in what used to be a deeply patriarchal and conservative society. Her election signalled profound change.

I am struck by how well independent Ireland has been served by the presidents it has chosen. Although primarily ceremonial figures, they’ve helped reflect the country back to itself while projecting a personality for Ireland abroad. Presidential elections aren’t pretty, but once there’s a result the country tends to unify impressively. Modern Ireland doesn’t do deference, but the office of President is treated with seriousness and respect.

Mary Robinson broke the presidential mould in several ways. She used the position as a platform to continue her life’s work campaigning for fairness and justice. By choosing Robinson in 1990 over the patriarchal Brian Lenihan, the Irish people did something unexpected – and then developed a taste for it. Over the next generation Ireland somersaulted quite dramatically. It switched from being Europe’s most conservative society to, arguably, its most liberal. There were many factors at work, but Robinson’s election was both a symbol and a spark for change.

Without proportional representation, she wouldn’t have made it. Opponents cast her as anti-family and a “Red”; she was Labour’s first ever presidential candidate. Some thought her campaign doomed when she supported the introduction of contraception into Ireland! How times change. After her presidency she took a global role with the United Nations and, now in her 80s, she travels the world still campaigning still for just causes.

Ireland’s early presidents were representative of the country’s revolutionary past. They included Dr Douglas Hyde, founder of the Gaelic League, Sean T O’Kelly, active at the Easter Rising of 1916, Eamon de Valera, a commander in the Easter Rising spared execution by his American birth, and Erskine Childers, son of a republican revolutionary executed during Ireland’s civil war.  They were men of their times.

De Valera was by far the best known.  He dominated Irish politics for half a century but has fallen dramatically from fashion these last decades as Ireland redefined itself as liberal and European. In his time, de Valera was independent Ireland’s first and pre-eminent statesman. He sent fraternal greetings to Welsh nationalists when it was a tiny and ignored movement. No one did more to establish Ireland on the global stage, especially in America, and if his legacy is mixed, it remains substantial.

Robinson’s election was a way of moving on from de Valera’s Ireland. The country joined the EU on the same day as the United Kingdom and embraced membership enthusiastically. EU funding helped it became progressively richer, and the wider horizons opened minds.  Irish politics began to shift accordingly.

Robinson was succeeded by Mary McAleese and Michael D Higgins, both of whom served two terms, and Catherine Connolly has just become Ireland’s tenth president. It’s interesting to note that Ireland has recently chosen presidents significantly to the left of the governments it has elected through the same period.  Both Higgins and Connolly emerged from the Labour/left tradition. It’s also striking that Ireland’s presidents, excepting de Valera, tend not to be drawn from the front rank of Irish politics.

McAleese grew up in Ardoyne, Belfast, the epicentre of Northern Ireland’s conflict and, although associated with Fianna Fail, she is among Ireland’s most liberal voices on social and equality issues. In early 2000 she received the newly elected First Minister Rhodri Morgan at the presidential palace, Aras An Uachtarain, only a few weeks after his election. It was Rhodri’s first visit abroad and the first time in history that any elected Welsh leader met another country’s head of state.  I was part of Rhodri’s team and felt it as a powerful moment of recognition for Wales.

The immensely popular President Higgins articulated Irish positions on international justice in terms which occasionally sent a quiver down the spine of the Irish government. In doing so, he built on the tradition established by Robinson of using the presidency-as-platform. Higgins is a poet too, a more natural pursuit in Ireland than in many countries.  He also received the Welsh First Minister, Carwyn Jones, in Dublin in 2013 (as it happens, I was there for that, too). The President accepted Carwyn’s invitation to participate in celebrations for the Dylan Thomas 100 anniversary in Swansea in 2014, a task for which he was perfectly qualified.

President Connolly was elected clearly in the radical tradition.  She will maintain Ireland’s strong international voice on social justice. She is a weighty supporter of the Irish language and will use the office to promote the spread and depth of Irish usage (presently enjoying a vogue, partly on the back of Kneecap’s profile).

The debate for and against monarchy is well-established and I have nothing to add to it. I do, though, resist the lazy argument that a president would necessarily be a poor substitute. Ireland’s experience over a hundred years has shown that an elected president can bring personality and perspective to a country’s vision of itself.

It’s interesting and fun to speculate on what sort of president Wales might elect, if ever circumstances allow.  Based on Ireland’s experience, I would feel very positive about the prospects.  If he fancied it, I reckon Michael Sheen would be a shoe-in. In fact, you could argue he fulfils part of the role already in an informal way, using his fame and resources to mobilise opinion and action on things he cares about; culture, poverty, homelessness.

The barriers to entry in Ireland’s presidential election are complicated and geared towards political patronage, making it hard for non-politicians to get on the ballot paper. If ever Wales gets into this territory, it would be good to frame the rules so that non-politicians could mount a fair challenge.

A Welsh presidency would aim to project what we might loosely consider “Welsh values” and aim to give a human face to those sentiments. Liberalism – in the sense of “tolerance” – would surely be at the heart of it, a sense of Wales being big enough for everyone who chooses to live here. There’s a strong collective sense to Welsh political identity, that we have obligations to each other and are together responsible for the country’s well-being. A president would promote the country’s culture, its two languages. They would formally welcome visitors to Wales and represent the country abroad.

Politicians would be queuing up, no doubt. A wider franchise could tap into some interesting names.  How about Richard Parks, explorer, rugby player, motivational speaker?  The amazing Wayne Howard, the former steel worker who learnt Welsh to an incredible standard and now teaches it? Cerys Matthews, Charlotte Church, both talented, liberal, wise?  These are just a few names plucked from the air. There are, I’m certain, lots of people I’ve never heard of who would make excellent candidates.

Who knows if it will happen one day, but a look across the Irish Sea tells me we need have no fear.