Demob happy Cowen? Don't be a fool . . .

DÁIL SKETCH:FOR A man about to escape answering questions in the Dáil for the next three months, Brian Cowen was in foul humour.

When he finally fled the chamber at lunchtime yesterday, the Taoiseach left safe in the knowledge that he doesn’t have to show his face again until September 29th.

Twice a week he must account for himself on the floor of parliament. At the best of times it is a personal purgatory he undertakes with habitual bad grace. But even by the Taoiseach’s own dour standard, yesterday’s performance took the rancid biscuit. Bearing in mind the sensitivity of the issue under discussion during Leaders’ Questions, Cowen’s grouchy impression of a bear with a sore head jarred with the muted mood of all but a couple of his Ministers.

“I rise today to speak for those who have no voice for themselves,” began the Fine Gael leader, on a day when nearly 2,000 people from around the country were forced to take to the streets to try and embarrass the Government into reversing cuts in basic services for people with disabilities.

These are men and women who have more than enough on their plates without having to march because they have lost, or fear they will lose, their respite care.

“It is fair to say that the people who are on the streets today felt that the days of having to protest, of having to walk on the streets in order to bring attention to the needs and difficulties they have in providing care for members of their family . . . were over,” said Eamon Gilmore.

Cowen listened, head bowed, as an impassioned Enda Kenny contrasted the plight of disabled people hit by minor budgetary cuts with the large increase in the entertainment budget of Government departments.

The Taoiseach’s microphone was off, but his tart assessment of the Fine Gael leader’s contribution was clearly heard in the press gallery.

Without raising his eyes, Brian Cowen uttered just one word, voice dripping with contempt.

“Fool.”

Charming.

Had the Taoiseach taken his opinion of Kenny’s contribution to the gates of Leinster House an hour later, he would have met a lot of people who would have told him, in no uncertain terms, that the Fine Gael leader was speaking sense.

Perhaps the voiceless – “the people who look after adults with a mental age of three or four” as Enda Kenny called them – just slipped beneath his radar.

As this Dáil session comes to a close, a lot of political brains are addled by talk of the banking and Nama billions.

The Taoiseach appeared to be under the impression that no decisions have been made to close down some respite facilities. “It will not happen as far as I’m concerned,” he wheezed.

Opposition deputies were outraged. (A few Government backbenchers looked very uncomfortable.) Examples were furnished from Dublin, Galway and Limerick by incandescent TDs.

“The Taoiseach has said that no such decision has been made. If not, why are thousands of people marching to the House today? This is their cry for help. Who speaks for these people? The Taoiseach certainly doesn’t these days,” fumed Enda.

To which the cankerous Cowen replied: “You don’t, anyway.” As the Opposition piled in with their examples of services under pressure, he countered by arguing “this is no time to scare people who are vulnerable”. They went apoplectic across the floor at that.

The Fine Gael leader was clearly irritating his opposite number, who began muttering to himself before appealing to the Ceann Comhairle to make Kenny get to the point with a sarcastic “Question?” On the back foot on the respite services issue, the Taoiseach started attacking Fine Gael and Labour’s track record in providing disability services. The Rainbow Coalition left power in 1997.

A depressing morning.

Then, during the Order of Business, Cowen was bounced into revealing the length of the recess. Last week, despite Opposition requests, the Government insisted no date had been fixed. (They didn’t want a week of criticism building up over their three-month break from legislating and answering questions.) Ideally, the return of September 29th would have been announced today, with the Taoiseach already gone for the duration and the house about to rise.

In defence yesterday, the Taoiseach declared “there will be a lot of work done by committees in July and September.” Whereupon those deputies left in the chamber burst out laughing.

Stop press! Here’s that Dáil schedule for the foreseeable future that they don’t want you to see: Adjourn today until the third week in December, when the House will rise for the Christmas recess.

In the immediate aftermath of the festive season and after the January sales, Leinster House will reopen to facilitate a mass clocking-in exercise by members of the Government, who will retrospectively regularise their attendance statistics for expenses purposes.

By then, Creme Eggs will be in the Oireachtas shop, signalling the rapid approach of Easter 2011. Accordingly (and taking into account Valentines Day, St Patrick’s Day and Cheltenham), the House will go into recess on the first of February.

It must be noted that the Green Party – while vehemently opposed in principle to ridiculously long parliamentary breaks – is in full agreement with its coalition partners on the issue of avoiding scrutiny in the Dáil.

February, after all, is the start of the rhubarb-forcing season.

There will be a long sitting in May to facilitate the annual golf outing, to postpone the byelections in the national interest and to prepare for the summer break.

Three months away from parliament. Twelve weeks in hiding.

The mind boggles.