A presidential election now seems certain after Labour indicated it will run a candidate. Frank McNally throws his hat into the ring
Following consultations with my family and a number of trusted advisers, I have decided to let my name go forward as a candidate for the office of president. I am fully aware that this is the greatest honour the people can bestow upon a fellow citizen, and seeking it is not a step I take lightly. I offer myself with a sense of profound humility, although I can't promise this will last if I get elected.
I am also conscious of the greatness of former presidents in whose footsteps I hope to follow: presidents such as Douglas Hyde, Éamon de Valera, and that other guy in between them, whose name I can never remember. Not for one moment do I pretend to such eminence. But should I win the position of head of State, my only wish will be to serve others: at least in the event - admittedly unlikely - that my entire household staff is simultaneously indisposed.
It is now 14 years since Ireland had a male president. This has been a heady period in the life of the State. It has seen the greatest economic boom in our history, unprecedented cultural and sporting success, and the growth to adulthood of the Corr sisters. We have now entered a period of retrenchment, however; and with this in mind, mine would be a more sober presidency. I use the word "sober" in the broad sense. Even a president is entitled to a social life.
My vision of Ireland is in keeping with our straitened times. The land which I would desire would be the home of a people who valued material wealth only as the basis for right living; a land whose countryside is bright with cosy homesteads (and not, during December, with garish, illuminated plastic figurines!); a land joyous with the contests of athletic youth, and the laughter of happy maidens (or vice versa). And a land whose firesides would be forums for the wisdom of old age, provided nobody rambled on too much.
Of course, many people will say that the presidency is meaningless. But I know that the €230,000 salary would mean a lot to my bank manager, for one. And besides, I believe the role's potential has not been fully explored by previous incumbents.
Among the few discretionary powers available to the president, for example, is the power to convene an emergency meeting of both houses of the Oireachtas. As president, in a gesture to my former colleagues in journalism, I would convene such meetings regularly, especially during August, when there's nothing else happening. At Christmas too. Trying to fill the paper on New Year's Day can be a real killer.
The role could be stretched in other areas as well. Take the notorious "red carpet incident" during last year's Six Nations rugby decider at Lansdowne Road. It is generally accepted that the President Mrs McAleese reacted to Martin Johnson's snub with great dignity, and I agree. On the other hand, the President is supreme commander of the defence forces. Maybe it's a guy thing: but in her position I would have at least threatened war with England, to see how Johnson reacted.
Another area where I would have acted differently was her decision - at the request of the Taoiseach - to donate a parcel of Áras land to Dublin Zoo, for the African Plains Project. I deeply regret this. As president, I would work for the reintegration of the national territory, peacefully, and with the consent of a majority of the zoo's population. Also, if the Army was game, I'd be up for seizing the polo grounds. Who plays polo in a modern democracy, anyway?
The presidency now ending has famously been "a presidency of embrace". Again, I would not be found wanting in this department. As president, I would embrace everyone and everything, with the possible exception of any interns who found themselves working in the Áras during my time there.
As the head of State who would most likely have to host the first visit since independence of a British monarch, I would also extend the hand of friendship to Queen Elizabeth. I would not extend the red carpet, though; at least not fully. Suffice it to say it might - accidentally-on-purpose - not reach all the way out to the royal helicopter. Let her walk on the grass, for a change, and see how that big gorilla Johnson likes it.
My campaign slogan will be "A Presidency for the People". However, if the right sponsor becomes available, the bit about "the people" is negotiable. I'm not going to get hung up on details. The main thing is that I have a strong sense of priorities.
If I had to say what single thing I would hope to achieve during my seven years in office, it would be this: free All-Ireland final tickets every year!
Although I will accept support from all quarters, my presidential campaign will reach out in particular to the little guy. The message is: give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. But don't give them to me until after I'm elected. And even then, make sure and
ring first, to see if I'm in.