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Liam Fay: Cowen set to thumb his nose at voters again over senators

With two Seanad seats up for grabs, the time has come to see if the taoiseach has heeded the verdict of the people?

Following the local and European election results, a gale-force wind of change has blown through Irish politics. For the first time in living memory, the Seanad seems set to assume political significance, if only for a fleeting moment.

Naturally, this once unimaginable turn of events has not been brought about by senators, those steadfast providers of sound and fury signifying nothing. Tellingly, the upper house's small window of relevance arises instead from the vacancies in its midst.

There are now two empty seats in the Seanad: one left by the death of Fianna Fail senator Tony Kett, the other by the election to Brussels of the Labour senator Alan Kelly. Voting in senate by-elections is confined to members of the Oireachtas, and the government has a majority in both houses. Notwithstanding its new demands, the Greens are unlikely to increase their quota of senatorial armchairs, meaning the new senators will almost certainly be Fianna Fail nominees.

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This is what suddenly makes the Seanad so important. After a series of elections that showed voter confidence in Fianna Fail at rock bottom, the individuals Brian Cowen chooses to fill the vacancies will demonstrate beyond doubt whether he's telling the truth when he says he has heeded the verdict of the people. The instant we hear the candidates' names we will know if the taoiseach really has learned that the public is sick of political cynicism in all its guises.

The nominations are, therefore, a test of Cowen's fitness for office. It's a test from which he can emerge in only one of two ways: as a chastened democrat honestly attempting to retrieve public trust, or as an imperious autocrat clinging to power for personal and party advantage.

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Remarkably, despite the stakes for which he's playing, all the indications are that Cowen is preparing to disappoint yet again. Informed press speculation suggests he will use the spare seats as perks for Fianna Fail hacks, thereby reverting to monkey business as usual. One of the leading contenders for ennoblement is Shay Brennan, the hapless scion of a Fianna Fail dynasty who was trounced in the Dublin South by-election.

Brennan's elevation could be seen as nothing other than an insult to the electorate that emphatically rejected him as a Dail candidate. By giving him a seat in parliament anyway, Cowen would be riding roughshod over the opinions of the voters whose views he claims to respect. He would also be perpetuating the notion that, however unimpressive they are as individuals, the offspring of Fianna Fail grandees deserve automatic preferment.

Another election casualty under consideration for a senate sinecure is Eoin Ryan, the former Dublin MEP. Ryan hasn't yet decided whether to remain in politics following his humiliating defeat but Fianna Fail strategists are reportedly eager that he does, as he's one of the party's few bankable faces in the capital. A senate seat is seen as a consolation prize that would secure Ryan's ongoing loyalty.

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There are a couple of other names in the mix but they're no less inauspicious: little-known councillors with Dail ambitions whose profiles require boosting in the run-up to the general election. None of these wannabe TDs would regard the Seanad as anything other than a self- promotional platform, and all would seek to curry favour with party bosses. The public, on whose behalf they would supposedly serve, would be the last people on their minds.

This, of course, is how the Seanad has long been used by all parties. But it is Cowen and his remaining apologists who argue that partisan politicking is an indulgence we can no longer afford. The people have spoken, they insist, and the message received and understood.

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Far from learning from his mistakes, however, Cowen seems unable or unwilling to stop repeating them. Like a badly burned pyromaniac, charred but defiant, he's evidently powerless to keep his bandaged hand away from the fire.

Once a spinner, always a spinner

Though he denies affiliation with any secret religious group, Michael Woods sounded like a brainwashed cult member during Friday's Dail debate about the Ryan report.

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The former education minister and fervent Catholic spewed fire and brimstone as he defended the sweetheart deal he struck with the church in 2002, whereby the state indemnified religious orders against all legal claims arising from their decades of child abuse in return for a derisory contribution to the exchequer.

Brooking no criticism, Woods accused his opposition detractors of pursuing a "preset agenda" by attempting to "tie Fianna Fail in with the church". He blithely overlooked the "preset agenda" he seemed to have brought to the issue himself through his deference and submissiveness to the clerics with whom he negotiated on the state's behalf.

Spin-physician, heal thyself.

Dolan makes final returns

Understatement wasn't Joe Dolan's style. The Mullingar Mojo had a singing voice like a Tarzan yell and was no shrinking violet offstage either. There's considerable irony, therefore, in the revelation that a company once run by the late entertainer and his brother Ben has reached a €3.9m settlement with the revenue arising from "under-declaration" of income tax.

Dolan spoke for many in the country 'n' western set when he fantasised in song about declaring himself an independent offshore republic, no doubt distinguished by a low-tax, lightly-regulated financial regime.

The ditty should really have been called Make Me a Cayman Island.

It's hard to take Kenny seriously

It takes a master strategist to make a slap on the wrist look like a slap in the face. One assumes, therefore, that Fine Gael's Machiavelli-in-chief Frank Flannery concocted the PR wheeze whereby his move from "director of elections" to "director of organisation" was presented as a demotion.

Flannery's supposed relegation by party leader Enda Kenny was triggered by the spin doctor's suggestion that Fine Gael would be willing to enter a coalition with Sinn Fein.

Like everything he does and has others do, Flannery's intervention was an act of gamesmanship, a signal to Fine Gael voters that transferring to Sinn Fein was now acceptable in the battle against Fianna Fail. For diehard blueshirts, however, it was sacrilege.

While Flannery's influence is undiminished, his apparent demotion makes Kenny look tough. But, amidst the clever posturing, a question arises: if Kenny really is a decisive leader, how come his handlers have to work so hard to make him look like one?

White elephants don't come cheap

To enable value comparisons, the National Consumer Agency (NCA) advocates that the prices of goods and services be clearly labelled. In terms of bang per buck, however, the watchdog itself looks like a white elephant.

Its annual report says the NCA spent €7.5m in public money last year. During that period, it prosecuted six traders for consumer law breaches. The sticker price of each prosecution was, to any cynic, therefore, over €1m.

Rip-off Ireland is alive and gorging. Depressingly, some of the most audacious overcharging is by useless quangos posing as consumer champions.