All the Berties: young Ireland seeks integrity in the presidency amid renewed political engagement
Alannah Ita Healy
“If Bertie Ahern goes for the presidency, I will actually make it my personal mission to make sure he doesn’t win.”
That is the statement Irish artist CMAT made in a 2023 interview with Hot Press, during a discussion in which she spoke about wanting to use her platform to address social and political issues like “the culture of the economy” in Ireland.
Flashing forward to today, and with the 2025 presidential race beginning to pick up steam, it appears CMAT is indeed endeavouring to make good on that promise, with the release of her latest single ‘Euro-Country’. Describing the story of the 2008 crash from her perspective as a pre-teen in a small town, the song’s bridge calls out: “All the big boys / All the Berties / All the envelopes, yeah they hurt me / I was twelve when the das started killing themselves all around me / And it was normal, building houses / That stay empty even now.”
The song has received a lot of response following its release, inspiring countless ‘children of the boom and bust’ to post videos set to ‘Euro-Country’ in which they describe their own experiences growing up during a time of recession and the collapse of the Celtic Tiger. These experiences range from childhood memories of sustained financial difficulty for families to accounts of the more harrowing impacts of the crash, such as the increase in men’s suicides referenced in the track. But common across all of them is the sense of generational grievance – a simmering anger passed down and reshaped over the years, that is being re-squared at the ‘Berties’ of the world in 2025.
Evidently, CMAT’s direct callout has tapped into a growing undercurrent of political disillusionment among Ireland’s younger generation, a demographic sometimes accused of disengagement or apathy when it comes to traditional politics – though it should be noted they are not alone in this regard. Last year’s general election saw an overall voter turnout of 59.7 per cent, the lowest turnout in an Irish general election since 1923, and recent polls for the upcoming presidential race show that ‘none of the above’ and ‘not sure’ are far outperforming every potential candidate.
Alongside the possibility of Bertie Ahern’s candidacy, the field features figures with vastly different political and cultural baggage. Leading recent polls is Fine Gael’s Mairead McGuinness, the European Commissioner known for her establishment credentials and deep EU ties. Close behind her is Galway-West independent TD Catherine Connolly, who, running with the backing of Labour, the Social Democrats, People Before Profit, and several independents, is positioning herself as a voice for transparency and grassroots accountability.
The outsider lane is crowded, too. Peter Casey, the 2018 runner‑up whose campaign was marked by controversial remarks about the Traveller community, is once again seeking nomination via local authorities. Michael Flatley, the Riverdance star, has filed an affidavit of intent to run – an aspirational bid that has nonetheless captured tabloid attention. And then there’s Conor McGregor, whose combination of celebrity status, populist rhetoric, and legal controversies makes him one of the most talked‑about yet dismissible potential entrants in the eyes of many.
For younger voters, the presence of such a polarising and high‑profile slate transforms the presidency from an abstract institution into a referendum on public figures, cultural values, and historical accountability. Unlike general elections, where policy detail, and party strategy muddy and dominate things – the presidential ballot offers a more symbolic form of participation. Casting a vote can feel like a statement of identity, a rebuke to certain legacies, or an endorsement of a particular vision of what it means to represent Ireland on the world stage.
Picking the correct figurehead to represent the country is a particularly key motivator given the context of young voters’ general soft spot for outgoing president Michael D Higgins.
Higgins’ tenure has offered a particular blend of cultural pride and moral clarity that has spoken to a lot of people – he champions Irish language, culture, and heritage without sliding into exclusionary nationalism, and he hasn’t been afraid to speak plainly on urgent social issues. He called the housing situation a ‘crisis’ long before it was politically fashionable, urged action on climate change, consistently emphasised the importance of peace and international solidarity, and criticised the hollowing-out of public life by economic forces. His speeches often read less like political boilerplate and more like public meditations on justice, dignity, and the responsibilities of citizenship.
For a generation used to leaders dodging hard truths, Higgins’ example set a bar for what can be expected from public office. His presidency demonstrated that the role, while constitutionally limited, could still wield significant moral influence. In that light, the 2025 contest isn’t just about who will occupy Áras an Uachtaráin – it’s about whether the office will retain that sense of integrity and vision, retreat into a purely ceremonial posture, or morph into something else entirely.
With a presidential field so drenched in personality politics, there is both risk and opportunity here. Risk, in that frustration could harden into further disengagement if no candidate feels worthy of belief. Opportunity, in that a symbolic contest like this one might be precisely the kind of political theatre that draws disillusioned or first‑time voters into the necessary habit of participation – not just for the presidency, but voting and politics in general.
It is a habit that needs to be encouraged more than ever in the current landscape. Disillusionment, especially after broken promises or years of hardship, is an understandable reaction – not just for younger voters, but voters in general – but stepping back only cements the status quo. It is participation that begets actual change; as the ‘Euro-Country’ bridge wraps up with, “it can get better if we hound it.”
