The rumour doesnât appear to be true. It would be resisted more in the Greens than in the other parties anyway. Ciaran Cuffe is on Gav Reilly presently. I expect him to rule it out if asked.
In fairness to Roderick, heâd be a senior junior. And as Iâm sure you know well, thereâs plenty of juniors whoâd buy and sell a senior but didnât take silk because theyâd be taking a paycut
Thank goodness for Catherine Martin. Every slow news cycle needs a juicy whodunit or, in this case, a why-on-earth-even-consider-it mystery. Editors are rejoicing. Just when it seemed journalism was forever doomed to the single-transferable story of Covid-19, along she comes: a veritable walking, talking, perplexing enigma. Is she the good cop or the bad cop? Or is she actually intent on pursuing a very calculated coup in the genteel palace of knitted lentils?
A fortnight ago, an RTE television newsreader had to correct herself after inadvertently calling the Green Partyâs deputy leader by the wrong name. Now the words Catherine and Martin slip off tongues as familiarly as a nice cup of tea over at Father Tedâs. Adding spice to the drama is that the target of Martinâs ambition to assume the leadership of the Greens is the enormously likeable incumbent, Eamon Ryan.
Political anoraks have unzipped layers of conjecture about what has possessed Martin to confirm she is âseriously consideringâ a challenge for Ryanâs job. One popular theory is that itâs part of a Machiavellian plot to increase the partyâs leverage in government formation negotiations. As the Greensâ most prominent coalition refusenik, the threat of having to deal with her as the leader in a tripartite government might eke extra concessions from Fianna Fail and Fine Gael negotiators, thus entrenching Ryanâs place at the helm. Itâs a neat theory. But itâs wrong.
In politics, the plenitude of theories often obscures the screamingly obvious answer. Martin is prepared to contest the leadership because she can. Simple as. Her ambitious nature should come as no surprise. When she wants something, she sets out to get it. She became the Greensâ deputy leader in 2011, just four years after joining the organisation. In February, she topped the general election poll in Dublin Rathdown, unseating the minister for transport, Shane Ross, in the process.
Feminism is one of her foremost motivating forces. It informs her political thinking. In her first term as a TD, she founded the Oireachtas womenâs caucus and obtained state funding for an international conference of parliamentary caucuses, held at Dublin Castle. The caucus, worried that it would fail because of unresolved ambiguity, influenced the governmentâs decision to postpone a promised referendum to repeal the constitutionâs enshrinement of a womanâs place in the home. It also steered a period poverty motion through Leinster House, calling for affordable sanitary products and education about menstruation. None of this work was even faintly glamorous. No savvy political adviser would recommend it as a route to headline-grabbing career success.
Martinâs style is low-key. She has sat beside Ryan in the gods of the Dail chamber since 2016 as his assiduous policy-wonk deputy. The duo gave the impression of a compatible partnership. His impassioned and sometimes theatrical speeches in the chamber were a counterbalance to her no-nonsense contributions. So when did it start to go wrong?
Even before the general election, it would appear. In retrospect, the non-selection of Hazel Chu as Ryanâs running mate in Dublin Bay South was an early point of divergence. Chu, who is now the Green Party chairwoman, attracted huge media attention in May 2019 when she became the first Irish-born person of Chinese descent to be elected in this country. Her Pembroke electoral ward is in Ryanâs constituency and, with the Greensâ star high in opinion polls, there was speculation that she would be added to the general election ticket alongside the party leader. She wasnât â a decision vindicated when Sinn Feinâs Chris Andrews took a seat there on the tide of his partyâs electoral surge.
Ryanâs transgression, though, was to spur Chu a second time. Having recused herself from the selection committee for the partyâs Seanad election candidates because she was seeking a nomination, Chu found herself an also-ran. Martin, too, recused herself because her brother, Vincent P Martin, a failed general election candidate in Kildare, was also up for consideration. He too failed to secure a nomination for the Seanad elections.
Rumblings of discontent started to emanate from the Greens. The Sunday Times reported in the first week of April that Martin was coming under pressure from some colleagues to throw her hat into a leadership contest that, under the partyâs rules, would have to be held before August 8. At that stage, there was a discussion already under way about the potential for some councillors to come out publicly in support of a challenge by her.
On May 3, eight of the 12 Green TDs voted in favour of entering the government formation talks. Those who voted against were Martin, her husband Francis Duffy, and Neasa Hourigan, who is regarded as a supporter of the deputy leader. Patrick Costello, who is married to Chu, abstained.
Last week, four Cork city and county councillors â Lorna Bogue, Colette Finn, Oliver Moran and Liam Quaide â urged Martin to stand against Ryan, as they said he was no longer the right person to lead the party.
It has been posited by her supporters that Martin, from Co Monaghan, would appeal to a wider rural constituency and, being nine years younger than Ryan, a younger one too. But what goes unsaid is her feminist calling card.
Despite her party quadrupling its tally of Dail seats in February, Martinâs response to the Greensâ victory was heavily tinged with disappointment that only two of its TDs are female. This lack of gender balance is regarded by many female members as an intolerable deficit in, as they see it, a radical and modern party.
While Ryan is certainly no misogynist and has championed various gender-equality causes, Martin is seen as proactively engaged in recruiting and encouraging female candidates. Some of her most ardent supporters in the party are women who recall how she taught them how to organise their election campaigns and joined them on the doorsteps in their constituencies.
Of course, not every Green woman is backing Martin; no more than every Green man is opposing her. Pippa Hackett, a Co Offaly organic farmer and senator, is an example of one who has come out in favour of Ryan. The preponderance of women among Martinâs supporters is inescapable, however.
One of them, when asked why Martin would want to be the party leader, replied: âBecause she just would.â The councillor, who has not yet gone public as a Martin supporter, added: âWhy donât journalists ever ask male leadership candidates that question?â
After the February election, a political refrain rose up from Leinster House that the people had voted for change. Now, here comes more of it. The Green Party is making its own stab at history by choosing its leader and, ergo, deciding its future against a feminist soundtrack. Changed times indeed.