Delivering for constituents caps Independent's career

DEPARTING THE DÁIL:RETIRING INDEPENDENT TD Jackie Healy-Rae (79) is very clear about the highs and lows of his 13 years representing Kerry South.

The highs centered on his influential role as a TD whose support was required by the Government, placing him in a powerful position to deliver to his constituents. The lows were voting for the toughest budget in the State’s history.

The former Fianna Fáil councillor ran as an Independent in 1997, when he failed to get a party nomination, and was elected after a barnstorming campaign.

In retrospect, it was a stroke of political luck. Bertie Ahern needed his support to form his first government, and kept him sweet as a political insurance policy when he had a majority in 2002. Healy-Rae still had access to ministers.

In 2007, Healy-Rae’s support was sought again when Ahern secured the numbers for a third term. It meant the colourful Kilgarvan man was an influential TD over the years, enjoying greater access to ministers and more political leverage than Fianna Fáil backbenchers.

Healy-Rae and other Independents supporting the Government met with the chief whip on Tuesdays where many matters were ironed out. If not, they went further.

“I could knock on the door of the Ministers in Government Buildings, and I had access to the Taoiseach, if I required it, over the years. I put the interests of my constituents as my top priority and I make no apologies to anybody for that.”

As others in the constituency sometimes took credit for various projects, Healy-Rae made it clear he was the one with access to a government needing his vote.

“Take the Castleisland bypass. Community activists, a local committee and many councillors campaigned for it. They did a good job, but I delivered it at the end of the day.”

Healy-Rae and his councillor sons, Michael and Danny, stole the publicity at the opening ceremony. It was christened the triple bypass, entering the lexicon of local political folklore.

While he had a good working relationship with Fianna Fáil taoisigh and ministers over the years, he says he got very angry when he was not told in advance about the IMF bailout.

“They kept me in the dark. I was not happy about that.”

Healy-Rae says access to the corridors of power and delivering to the constituency inevitably came with a price. “The price was voting for things I would not normally support. I had to keep my word and support the Budget for the good of the country.

“Who in their right mind would want to reduce people’s entitlements? I could have dumped the Government and sat on the ditch a year ago. I had to do what was honourable, knowing that if the Budget did not get through there would be no money for anything down the road.”

He recalls his son Michael, who will contest the next general election, having to deal with the Budget cuts as he did an early canvass in Kerry South. “That was tough. Some people were losing money off their pensions. He had to explain that if there was no Budget, there would be no money for pensions, or anything else, in the future. I think people understood.”

Healy-Rae refuses to embrace the social media outlets used by many of his Dáil colleagues. Having learned his political trade in the Neil Blaney-run byelections of the 1960s, he has stuck steadfastly to the traditional ways: Old-style rallies, after-Mass speeches and intensive door-to-door canvassing.

“While I have no problem with other people using them, I have no time for tweeting or Facebook or anything like that. I want to meet people face-to-face and not through the internet. The old tried and trusted ways are best.”