SATURDAY PROFILE: Dublin Lord Mayor Dermot Lacey is in trouble with his colleagues in the Labour Party over his U-turn on bin charges. First he supported the party line to abolish them, now he wants them increased. Róisín Ingle on the man who dubs himself 'an honest politician'
It should have been a perfect day, but the ghost of Christmas present hovered over Dublin Lord Mayor Dermot Lacey and 27 members of his family as they sat down to turkey and ham in the splendour of the newly refurbished Mansion House. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Lacey had agonised over his decision to support the increase in bin charges proposed by City Manager John Fitzgerald in direct defiance of Labour Party policy.
"I didn't sleep, I didn't eat," he says. "But I don't regret it. I know this is the right thing to do."
Although ensconced in the Mansion House for three weeks now and having just taken possession of the mayoral Volvo, he still hasn't properly unpacked. The red crates in his office are visible reminders of the fragility of his position as lord mayor.
After a 25-year association with the Labour Party, he faces possible expulsion for breach of the party whip. He also fears that the Minister for Environment, Martin Cullen, will soon move to dissolve Dublin City Council after 27 of the 52 councillors voted to reject the city manager's book of estimates last month. If that happens, there will be no councillors and no Lord Mayor of Dublin.
The last time such an extraordinary development occurred was in 1969.
This week, as councillors wait for the Minister's next move, Lacey's position is clear. "I believe that as lord mayor I have a moral obligation to the citizens of Dublin to ensure the work of the council is carried out. We are required by law to pass the budget, and if we don't, the Minister will dissolve the council, appoint a commissioner to oversee its business and probably introduce even higher bin charges next year," he says. "My way is the lesser of two evils, and while I deeply, deeply regret having to go against the party, sometimes you have to do what is right and proper."
He acknowledges he made a commitment to colleagues that he would oppose the bin charges before he was elected mayor, but says simply now, "I changed my mind".
It is also believed that Lacey feels under some obligation to Fianna Fáil because of a letter he sent to the party before the mayoral election, assuring them that none of his actions as lord mayor would jeopordise the running of the council or inhibit the passing of the estimates.
Understandably, some colleagues are not happy with his change of mind. Leader of the Labour Party group of councillors Tommy Broughan says he is "sad and disappointed" with what he considers a "pointless and ludicrous" stance by Lacey. He points out that local government is now enshrined in the Constitution and that any effort to abolish the council is doomed to failure.
"His fear is misplaced and misguided," comments Broughan. "The fact is that the Labour Party has always stood against the charges which have had a very bad history . . . every member signs a pledge that they will vote with the party and it is disappointing that Dermot chose to vote unnecessarily for the charges." Another Labour colleague says he believes Lacey has a tendency to view things through Dublin 4 eyes.
Privately, some Labour Party members say they support Lacey, while former lord mayors, Senators and one former ceann comhairle have sent him written messages of support. "People understand his position and feel that the survival of the city council is a more important issue than the bin charges," says one senior Labour Party source who does not want to be named. "The city council is essentially abolishing itself by voting against the rates and they are shooting themselves in the foot."
Commentators say it is ironic that Lacey is now threatened with expulsion from Labour given his unquestionable loyalty to the party in the past. During the 1970s and 1980s he acted as party man par excellence when facing down the militant left in Labour, sticking his head above the parapet in support of the party leadership when it really counted. Since then, the councillor who claims he lacks ambition, has forged a path which could see him become one of the main contenders whenever Ruairí Quinn vacates his Dáil seat in Lacey's lifelong stomping ground of Dublin South East.
His first involvement in the Labour Party was during the election of 1977 when he skipped out of his Leaving Certificate geography exam early to post leaflets for Quinn. "I failed geography and joined the Labour Party," he says.
Now 42 and married with two children, Lacey and his eight brothers and sisters were brought up in a two-up, two-down beside the scout hall in Donnybrook, Dublin 4. Labour Party HQ was just across the footbridge from his home and he describes his parents as "old style republican" and Labour supporters. His father, Tommy, a train driver, was a lifelong trade unionist and supporter of Noël Browne. When not looking after her large brood, his mother, Nora, worked as a housekeeper for local families.
In addition to a deep interest in politics, the family had a long association with the scout movement and, Lacey, a former scout leader, still meets friends from those days each Sunday night in O'Shea's in Clonskeagh. Colin Corcoran, a close friend, remembers the young Lacey fondly as "an upstart" who was always involved in scouting rows or scrapes.
"When he decides he is going to do something he won't let it go," he says. "I can remember more rows at scout meetings, rows he had with adults because he didn't believe what they were doing was right.
"He never went for the popular vote if he didn't believe in it and I suppose in that way he hasn't really changed."
Corcoran's abiding memory of Lacey is when the councillor was an 11-year-old scout, on a camping trip to Kent in England. As they sat around the fire, a request came from the English scouts for a song from the Irish contingent. The young Lacey stood up and sung The Teddy Bear's Head, a Wolfe Tones ballad about how the British "stole" the six counties of Ireland, removing the "head" from the "teddy bear" shaped country.
The last verse goes "So listen proud Brittania to what I say to you/ Would you like it if your head was owned by someone quite untrue/ And they planted foreign fleas to mix in with your breed/ Before another year had passed you'd never know your creed".
"I was 14 at that time but even I didn't know the significance of the song," says Corcoran. "But it was 1971, the day after Internment, and Dermot knew full well what he was doing. The scout leaders wanted to throttle him for it afterwards."
Far from throttling him, years later, the scouts in Ireland honoured Lacey with one of their highest awards, the Order of the Silver Wolfhound, in return for his years of commitment to the movement - if not for his mischievous ballad singing.
As an adult, he remained proud of the republican tradition in his family but has always been outspoken on republican violence. In one of his many letters to this newspaper he attacked Councillor Dessie Ellis for his "brass-necked hypocrisy" in condemning certain bomb attacks and not others.
Lacey is well liked in the political community, variously described as "charming", "easygoing", "genuine" and "extremely likeable". But some have questioned whether he has what it takes to capture the votes and imagination of the notoriously unpredictable citizens of Dublin South East.
Since taking the job of lord mayor last summer, he has raised the profile of the post, speaking out on everything from the homeless in Dublin to pollution on Dollymount Strand. He has weekly on a News Talk 106 radio programme as chairperson of Dublin City Council, discussing the issues that are on the council agenda and complaining about the lack of power afforded by central government to local authorities around the country.
He was one of the few politicians to applaud the hike in RTÉ's licence fee because the extra money means the station can now create a Dublin correspondent, a post the lord mayor has campaigned for vocally over the years.
"He is passionate about the city," according to one commentator. "He has a deep belief in community activism and local government and this unwavering belief is at the root of his current difficulties."
"I am an honest politician," the man himself claimed this week. "It sounds corny, but for me this business really is about making the world, especially this city, a better place."
The Lacey File
Who is he?
Lord Mayor of Dublin and Labour councillor of 10 years standing.
Why is he in the news?
He faces expulsion from his party over his refusal to take the party whip in relation to the bin charges issue. Last month he voted for the charges put forward by city manager John Fitzgerald in direct defiance of the policy laid down by Labour councillors. He says he is afraid that if the charges don't go through, the city council could be abolished.
Most appealing characteristic
His easy-going nature and commitment to his city.
Least appealing characteristic
Can be disorganised with a tendency to shoot his mouth off at inopportune moments.
Most likely to say
Dublin can be heaven
Least likely to say
Bin the charges