Headache for Government whatever the attendance

Despite the optimistic assessment of turnout, there were signs more people were feeling the fear and anger this time, writes MIRIAM LORD

WITH A single of chips in one hand and a loudhailer in the other, Joe Higgins mustered for the big march. It was cold, windy and wet, but the Socialist Party MEP couldn’t have looked happier. The workers were mobilised, the banners unfurled, there was protest in the air and the Fire Brigade Pipe Band was tuned up and ready to go. (Pithy Joe wouldn’t have needed vinegar for his chips.) On Parnell Square, people queued up to shake his hand. How Higgins must have wished for an election in the morning. He slipped into the throng to join his party.

The rain came down. “Ibec’s revenge,” snorted a passing protester, pulling on a hat. But once the march began, the clouds disappeared and the sun came out. A sign from the heavens, people said, only half joking.

Three large wooden €20 notes, each with a corner burned away, danced the way ahead, aided and abetted by a pantomime builder in a hard hat and a banker in a bowler hat. Behind them, union leaders David Begg, Jack O’Connor and Patricia King marched alongside an Irish Congress of Trade Unions banner which read “For a Better, Fairer Way”. Jack Douglas of the union Mandate joined the group – just in case anybody might think the occasion was purely a public sector protest. But like the bigger march against cuts last March, the majority of protesters who walked through Dublin yesterday were drawn from the public service. This was a sore point last time out, and it was on David Begg’s mind when he addressed the crowd in Merrion Square: “We’re in a bad space . . . All this stuff about reducing wages in the public sector is all about reducing wages in the private sector. That is the nature of the plan.”

It surely is a bad place at the moment. Nobody wants to see fire fighters and ambulance drivers, nurses and teachers out on the streets. They’re the people who make life better for the rest of us, but there are plenty more behind them. “You would as soon admit your grandfather was a member of the Black and Tans then say you are in the public service,” said the union leader, to hollow cheers. But they could have made as much noise as they wanted. There were no decision-makers in the big building at the end of the street. Neither Dáil nor Seanad was sitting. There was nobody in Leinster House to hear them.

This time, people lining the footpaths seemed better disposed towards the protesters. Back in March, there seemed a mixture of apathy and antipathy among onlookers. Maybe now, with a savage budget looming, the people who weren’t marching were feeling the anger and fear.

The Garda horses did an unceremonious dump on O’Connell Street, at a spot which happened to be directly opposite the AIB. A voice came from the crowd: “Too right! Even those horses has more cop than Brian Cowen.”

Mary Frances White, who works in St John of God’s in Islandbridge, brought along her Great Dane, Oisín. He was supposed to be the mascot for the band, in the absence of their Irish Wolfhound. But Oisín, he was the size of a Shetland pony, had other ideas, hot on the trail of horse manure. “We’re hit the same as everyone else here, and we’re frontline staff, 24/7, because we look after the most vulnerable,” said Mary. “My husband works in the same place, and between us, we’ve lost more than €1,000 a month.” Oisín looked up apologetically. His food bill alone must be horrendous.

The Siptu ladies from Tallaght Hospital were in fine voice. How many of them were marching? “Millions.” James Connolly sauntered along handing out leaflets. We hoped Joe Higgins might catch a glimpse. He would have died and gone to heaven on the spot. Another James Connolly tripped past further along. We knew he was a different Connolly, for while his costume was the same, this one had a grey ponytail cascading from beneath his hat and was talking on a mobile phone. Please God, Joe didn’t see him. One always likes to see one’s heroes in the best light.

The band played The Boys of Wexfordgoing past the GPO. The corpo workers putting up Christmas lights in the trees stopped to cheer them on. Gardaí stopped the march before the Abbey Street junction for traffic management purposes. Oisín the Great Dane took the chance to snaffle some horse manure. But the leadership took off, unawares. Soon, a large gap developed between them and the workers. Luckily, for their own sakes and for the sake of appearances, the gap was quickly closed.

The Boots chemist shop workers, currently in dispute with the company, formed an impressive group, their T-shirts highlighting their “Bitter Pill Campaign”. It must be said, they looked a credit to their products: lovely skin, hair and nails.

Labour deputies Joan Burton and Joanna Tuffy got a little lost at the start and had to wait on the pavement until the Labour Party banner came into view. They joined Emmet Stagg, who appeared to be wearing a hat stolen from one of the James Connollys.

The seasoned People Before Profit marchers chanted noisily, pulling a large set of speakers on a trolley. Ivana Bacik wheeled her bicycle. David Norris marched beside her. An elderly man walked in front of the Irish Senior Citizens Parliament contingent, holding a hand-made banner: “Hands Off Pensioners. Or Face Fury.” No idle threat there.

As the wind played havoc with the bigger banners, the Painters and Decorators Union needed eight strong men to hold on to the guy ropes and poles.

Michael Devereux, who works with the cleaning division of Dublin City Council, carried a lovely old clown doll which had a big “Brian Clown” label pinned to the front. We hoped he didn’t nick it from one of his children for the day. “No. I found him on my route.” The placards all had the same theme – workers paying and fat cats playing.

The blue flags of a sizeable CPSU group loomed on O’Connell Bridge. “Dude, they look like Leinster Flags!” an excited young man with a Dort accent exclaimed to his friend. “Don’t be so rondom. They’re, loike, workers?”

Given the day, and the weather, and the fact that similar marches were taking place around the country, the organisers expressed themselves well pleased with the turnout. Although speakers were somewhat lavish with their take on the numbers. A tally from around the country was read from the platform. It seemed like the workers of Ireland, along with the unborn generations, had turned out. The unions gave the figure in Dublin as 70,000. Gardaí, trying to be generous we suspect – the boys in blue are on the side of the workers in this – put it at 30,000. One way or the other, it all adds up to a big headache for the Government. As the crowd dispersed, Power to the People boomed out over Merrion Square. Whether or not they were in Leinster House, the politicians will have heard it, and trembled a little.