Brian Cowen is now, officially, the most unpopular taoiseach in living memory. If Mr Cowen’s satisfaction rating stood at its current 15% because he was dishing out the medicine that is hard to swallow but ultimately worthwhile, we would be imploring the public to stand behind him as we work our way out of our current economic difficulties.
Sadly, that rating reflects nothing more than the public’s assessment of Mr Cowen’s abilities as a leader. In short, he has been rumbled. The taoiseach is a liability, a leader so lacking in credibility that, when it comes to the National Asset Management Agency (Nama), the riskiest and most expensive project ever undertaken by the state, all the heavy lifting has been left to Brian Lenihan, the finance minister. The reason? The taoiseach was one of the architects of our economic collapse. Politically, he is as toxic as the banks’ bad assets. Is it any wonder, then, that Mr Lenihan’s stock has appreciated as rapidly as that of his leader has fallen?
The evaporation of Mr Cowen’s political career has been extraordinary. Elevated to the most important office of state without having to face the voters, he has taken incompetence to new levels. Last year’s Lisbon campaign was a shambles from beginning to ignominious end, culminating in the government and its establishment allies succumbing to defeat by a largely unknown business figure and a raggle-taggle of left-wing splinter groups. That hiding seemed to send Mr Cowen into shock, the only possible explanation for his otherwise inexplicable delay in tackling the financial crisis when it erupted and the series of miscalculations that followed.
As Mr Lenihan took responsibility for resolving the banking crisis, the taoiseach busied himself agreeing a new round of pay increases with the social partners, a decision so half-cocked that its eventual abandonment merely reinforced the view that Mr Cowen was at sixes and sevens.
Prior to that climbdown, and stung by criticism that he had failed to act during the summer, Mr Cowen decided the December budget should be brought forward to October. At the time we pointed out the folly of constructing a spending plan for 2009 with so much of the previous year’s outcome still unknown. It was no surprise then that such a foolhardy decision forced the government into an emergency budget in April, the centrepiece of which was a series of swingeing tax increases. The public had been led to believe public spending cuts would take most of the strain in the budget but Mr Cowen and his high-spending ministers took fright and went for the easy option instead. Is it any wonder that Fianna Fail took such a hiding in the local elections?
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We may never know for sure the extent to which Mr Cowen’s misfortunes reflect the advice he is getting — or ignoring — from his coterie of family, friends and advisers. But the taoiseach’s decision to deny, in a recent newspaper interview, that he drinks excessively or suffers from depression has opened a new line of attack for his critics. To call the interview a misjudgment is a massive understatement.
Mr Cowen is now terminally damaged but will limp on to lose the next election, whenever that may be. None of his potential successors is going to take the helm with certain defeat staring them in the face. The sense of national crisis may allow for the creation of Nama and the passing of Lisbon at the second time of asking but December’s budget may prove a step too far. The opposition parties are right to be on an election footing.