The signs were there early on.
Something was definitely afoot in the Healy-Rae camp.
As the bell summoning members to the first sitting of the new term rang out around Leinster House, TDs hurried inside to the Dáil chamber.
A dramatic afternoon was in prospect.
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A motion of no confidence had been tabled in the Government. Would the Independents recruited to support the Fianna Fáil/Fine Gael Coalition stand firm in the face of heavy pressure to jump ship after the shock of last week’s fuel protests?
Would the rural-based Healy-Rae brothers – one of them a nailed-on Minister of State – stay put and absorb the damage to their successful political brand or retire to spend more time with their early-won concessions for Kerry?
Neither Michael nor Danny had given any indication that they intended to renege on their promise to support the Coalition through thick and thin.
When business commenced just after 2pm on Tuesday, Danny was in his usual pew beside fellow Government-supporting Independent Barry Heneghan, and Michael was in the better seats across the way with the Ministers of State.
But Danny looked preoccupied and agitated. He kept going in and out of the chamber.
Michael looked like a man who had just seen a ghost.
There was definitely something afoot.
Had nobody else noticed the gathering of the Healy-Rae clan above in the visitor’s gallery?
Did they not see the show of familial strength as Michael and Danny walked from Leinster House 2000 in through the doors of Leinster House as those bells tolled for their brief flirtation with Government?
They were accompanied by their sister, the barrister Rosemary Healy-Rae; Michael’s son and Dáil assistant Cllr Jackie Healy-Rae jnr; and Danny’s daughter Cllr Maura Healy-Rae and son Cllr Johnny Healy-Rae who were up from Kerry for the occasion.
They weren’t in Kildare Street for a tour of the building.
The chamber was packed for the no-confidence showdown which everyone knew the Government would win. The schedule was changed so that the debate would take place immediately as opposed to later in the evening, when Opposition speakers would have a second chance to savage the Taoiseach and his administration having already gone through them for a shortcut earlier at Leaders’ Questions.
But there would be no second bite of the cherry. Leaders’ Questions was abandoned for the main event, much to the fury of Opposition whips.
After a short procedural row, the debate began.
Ceann Comhairle Verona Murphy set down the rules of engagement at the outset. Putting on her serious voice and lowering her speaking tone, she solemnly told deputies how to behave.
They should abide by the clock and stick to their speaking times. Their time is up when the clock turns red. The time begins when they get to their feet.
Stick to the rules. Give everyone a fair hearing. Conduct the debate in a respectful manner, she cautioned, to smirks from all sides.
Outside the building, there was an eerie silence. Merrion Street and Kildare Street were closed to traffic and pedestrians. Gardaí controlled the barriers – legitimately.
In Molesworth Street, directly facing the gates of Leinster House, a disappointingly small number of protesters had gathered. People said there would be many more at the barriers in a couple of hours when the protest proper was due to begin.
But the crowd never got much bigger.
There were a few Tricolours and a woman holding a six-foot-high cardboard syringe which looked like a sealant gun for doing your shower tray. “Covid Death” was written on it.
The gardaí looked bored. But at least it stayed dry for everyone.
Back inside, the debate took the usual course. Opposition, lambasting the do-nothing Government for abandoning the people and Government listing its greatest hits since assuming office.
Taoiseach Micheál Martin set the tone by setting out the support packages put in place by other governments in Europe and pointing out the Irish one was far more bounteous than most of them.
Tánaiste Simon Harris followed up with more of the same, with the provision of free HRT high on the list of Coalition achievements. A measure which might have gone over the heads of the almost exclusively male fuel protest hotheads.
Extending the scheme to a few of them might be a wise move.
All the while, Danny (H-R, D) was looking militantly inscrutable on his side of the floor, while Michael (H-R, M) was looking pale and wan beneath his flat cap on the other.
The respectful conduct requested by the Ceann Comhairle began to crumble during the Tánaiste’s speech. The heckling grew when he got to the part – heavily underlined by Government colleagues – that no unelected people have the right to restrict the rights of others or restrict their movements, as happened during the blockades.
Verona called for “respectful” something or other, before her voice trailed off.
The performance played out as expected – tit for tat, but with no fireworks.
The most notable aspect of a debate that ran out of steam within the first hour as the benches began to empty was the presence of three deputies on crutches.
Minister for Media Patrick O’Donovan was on a crutch and limping, leading Labour’s Ged Nash to remark that he must have been on the end of a particularly nasty sliding tackle from Coimisiún na Meán following his musings about unbalanced media coverage of the protests.
It prompted Nash’s leader, Ivana Bacik, to declare: “Goodbye Viktor Orbán, Hello Patrick O’Donovan.”
Independent TD Paul Gogarty was also hobbling, as was one of the main political movers in the current uproar – Richard O’Donoghue of Independent Ireland.
“There were more crutches in the chamber than Greens,” said one Opposition TD when they broke for the vote.
The Minister for Justice’s talk of bringing in the Army to deal with the protesters – which came as a surprise to some of his senior Cabinet colleagues, including the Minister for Defence, it seems, was viewed with great hilarity by his political opponents.
“GI Jim O’Callaghan arrived at the scene thinking he was Rambo,” said Cian O’Callaghan of the Social Democrats. Even on the Government front benches, they couldn’t resist a smile.
There was a lot of sound and fury from the Opposition and a lot of quiet anger on the Government side, particularly from backbenchers who have been ballyragged from a height by members of the public since the protests began.
There were numerous references to an unsettlingly toxic political atmosphere developing in the country.
But, with the Coalition in no danger of losing the vote, the occasion was flat and going nowhere.
A short time before Minister of State Michael Healy-Rae was about to add his few words to the long line of speeches from senior and junior Ministers, Mary Butler, the Chief Whip, left her seat and sat on the step next to Michael’s seat across the aisle.
They seemed deep in quiet but urgent discussion. Eventually Mary returned to her seat and then it was MHR’s time to speak.
He looked wretched. As did his brother.
In the gallery across from him, a concerned-looking Jackie jnr stared down at his father.
Michael began his speech and it became clear very quickly that he was quitting his prestigious job in Government. He was relinquishing his share of power.
He had special words for his family and supporters and the people of Kerry.
And he spoke of his late father, Jackie, the legendary TD.
Michael told the House how, racked by indecision, he talked to his father on Monday night.
“I asked him last night before I went to bed: I said: What should I do?”
Jackie gave the answer. And MHR, along with his brother, walked away.
“I’m sorry and I thank you all very, very, very much,” he said quietly, to a hushed chamber.
They looked shocked on the Government benches.
Not much better across the way, but certainly more pleased with the outcome.
A short time later, Michael emerged outside the gates on Kildare Street to cheers from the protesters. He gave a clenched-fist salute of defiance for the cameras – to create another Healy-Rae photo for the ages.
His departure was, indeed, a shock. Afterwards, Government members said they had no idea that this was about to happen. Even the Taoiseach was blindsided, it is said.
But perhaps not totally.
One Fianna Fáil backbencher, Shay Brennan, according to some of his Fianna Fáil colleagues, was seated across and directly behind MHR. And he was able to read what was printed on the speech he brought into the chamber.
It was then that the eagle-eyed deputy for Dublin Rathdown rumbled what the Kerry TD was about to do and he alerted the Chief Whip, who then tried to talk to her soon-to-be erstwhile colleague.
It didn’t change his mind.
After this dramatic development, the atmosphere changed. The debate took an unpleasant, nasty turn.
Women deputies on all sides shouted in protest as TDs, primarily among the Independent Ireland deputies, shouted down some women Government speakers. This was noted by Ministers Martin Heydon and Darragh O’Brien, the latter referring to “misogynistic” remarks from the Independent Ireland corner. He singled out Deputy Ken O’Flynn for special mention.
The Cork TD responded angrily, accusing Government TDs of homophobia.
Then the Independent TD Michael Lowry, losing two members of the group he put together to support the Coalition, launched a vicious attack on Sinn Féin.
Bad-tempered ructions ensued.
The whole thing eventually collapsed into the vote.
The Healy-Raes bowed out.
“Sure they were going since the day they came in,” shrugged a Government backbencher in the aftermath, before waspishly adding: “They said they would support the Government through thick and thin – now thick and thin have departed.”
