Let’s talk about… The presidential election outcome

What does Connolly’s landslide win tell us about Ireland’s political mood?

Catherine Connolly spent the final day of her election campaign in County Roscommon (last Thursday). She is pictured at Willow Outdoor Preschool in Roscommon Town, along with proprietors Katie and Declan. Photo: Michael Finan

 

 

 

The official announcement came late Saturday evening, when Presidential Returning Officer Barry Ryan stood in front of the crowd at Dublin Castle, and named independent candidate Catherine Connolly as the (incoming) 10th President of Ireland during the Formal Declaration of the Presidential Election Result.

Few were waiting with bated breath. Connolly’s victory had long been seen as a foregone conclusion in the run-up to Friday’s vote – and indeed had already been confirmed hours before final counts had been completed, with sole rival, Fine Gael’s Heather Humphreys, having conceded earlier that afternoon, once initial tallies began to explicitly hint towards what has now become one of the main headlines following this election’s results: the electorate’s overwhelming support for Connolly.

Securing 914,143 first preference votes (63%), Connolly’s win is a record in Irish presidential election history. Her commanding margin not only cements her personal popularity, but has of course raised the natural ensuing question: what does such a landslide victory signal in terms of Ireland’s wider political mood?

 

A messy election

 

It would be remiss to try to discuss Connolly’s win without paying proper mention to the competition that preluded it.

Just a few weeks ago, Connolly was set to share the ballot with a third presidential hopeful: Fianna Fáil’s candidate, Jim Gavin. Hand-picked by Taoiseach Micheál Martin, and buoyed by a pre-existing favourable public image and reputation for discipline and achievement owing from his time with the GAA, Gavin’s selection seemed clearly intended to project competence and quiet authority; Fianna Fáil positioning him as a steady, respected figure with cross-party appeal.

As we are all well aware of now, however, things unsteadied quickly – Gavin’s greatest political obstacles shifting from matters like his lacklustre performance in debates, to the reveal that he had failed since 2009 to refund €3,300 owed to a former tenant. The latter proved too much to recover from, prompting Gavin’s early withdrawal from the running despite having secured a nomination. As such, his name remained on the ballot paper as a ghost candidate – and for Martin, a harsh reminder of his political misstep.

Fine Gael, meanwhile, fared little better. After the withdrawal of their first choice, Mairead McGuinness – an early frontrunner in the race – Heather Humphreys’ campaign struggled to gather the same momentum, hampered by tepid support from within the party, a comparatively shallow and platitudinous mandate, and a public increasingly disillusioned with establishment choices.

Some of the tactics employed by her party’s campaign in the latter stages of the contest similarly did not go down well with a public sick of the politicking in their politics, with perhaps no better example than the ‘smear’ video put out against Connolly in the run-up to election day.

The video accused Connolly of hypocrisy for attacking the banks’ role in Ireland’s catastrophic housing crisis, as she had represented said banks in court as a barrister, prior to being elected to the Dáil in 2016. The strategy quickly backfired – though not expressly because of Connolly’s response, explaining the nature of a barrister’s role is to accept the case they’re assigned per “the cab rank rule”. No, while the shaky foundations of the party’s hypocrisy claims indeed played a part, many voters objected to the video itself; the application of ‘smear’ tactics, an Americanised ‘Trumpian’ approach that seemed to value victory above allowing the electorate an honest, fair choice.

 

“Not my president” and “a president for all”

 

After all, the fairness – or perceived lack thereof – of the Irish presidential election process is among the other main headlines to come out of these results, arising from another record reached by this year’s competition: the highest rate of spoiled ballots in a modern presidential election.

And just like Connolly’s record win, this record amount of spoiled votes was also expected. The post-nominations stretch of the presidential race saw the proliferation online of a campaign encouraging folks to forgo the opportunity to exercise their democratic right, and spoil their vote.

For some, it was to protest against the likes of Maria Steen or Conor McGregor not being on the ballot. For others, it was protesting the structure of candidate nomination itself. It would be impossible, really, to try list all the reasons people spoiled their votes, given the ballots in question range from innocuous accidental spoils (eg, ticking instead of numbering) to aggressive anti-LGBTQ/anti-POC mini-manifestos. Similarly it would be impossible to generalise what the spoiled voters of this year’s election meant in their record-making statement – as wide-varying of a cohort they surely are – besides a clear disillusionment with the system itself.

But taken together, it is clear that Connolly’s landslide win and the surge in spoiled ballots could easily be read as an upset for Ireland’s political establishment. Securing an unprecedented unified backing from the Irish left and sweeping aside centre-right candidates from incumbent government parties to achieve a record victory could signal a tangible shift away from the FF/FG double act that has monopolised so much of the nation’s politics. And regardless of the varying intentions behind them, the record number of spoiled votes tells its own story: a public growing increasingly frustrated not just with the candidates, but with the system itself.

For Ireland’s traditional parties, the message could not be clearer: the electorate is no longer content to be offered variations of the same choice. And while insights from presidential elections don’t always translate directly into general elections, the political centre that Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael once comfortably occupied now feels increasingly hollowed out, and unless they can use their remaining term time to meaningfully reconnect with a public craving authenticity, accountability, and a sense of purpose beyond party preservation, Catherine Connolly’s victory and last week’s spoiled votes might not just mark a presidential upset, but the beginning of a broader realignment in Irish politics.