Fear and loathing in the Dáil bar

COMMENT

For more years than I care to remember, the Dáil bar was my “local”. I am not boasting when I say that I probably drank more in the Dáil bar over the course of three decades than I drank in all other establishments combined. This is not a boast; just stating a fact of life.

 

 

The Dáil bar got a bad name over the years. People have images of drunken TDs falling all over the place after drinking copious pints of subsidised drink at all hours of day or night before going into the Dáil chamber and making public shows of themselves.

Some of that is true but most of it is not. There was the case recently when a young Cork TD grabbed a female colleague in the chamber and put her sitting on his lap. That was an exceptional case and probably arose out of unusually late night drinking in the Dáil bar. I am sure the man at the centre of the incident was mortified when he woke up some hours later realising what he had done.

Recent incidents apart, drinking patterns have changed a lot since I first entered the Dáil bar in the early 1970s. In those early days it was common to see TDs, Senators and, yes, members of the press, consuming alcohol as soon as the Dáil bars opened at 10.30am. Nowadays you hardly ever see anybody drinking anything stronger than tea or coffee before nightfall. That has been the norm for the past 20 or 30 years. Mind you, some will say that while TDs and Senators might not be imbibing during daylight hours, they more than make up for that during late night sessions.

When I am talking about the Dáil bar I am really talking about two bars – there is the members’ bar that is strictly confined to TDs and Senators, and there is the visitors’ bar that is open to anyone who has access to Leinster House. We really are talking about one bar – with two sections, one for the public and the other for deputies and senators.

During all my years in the Dáil I was only once in the members’ bar. That was in May 1970 during the 36-hour debate on the appointment of new ministers to replace those who had been sacked or resigned in the wake of the arms’ crisis.
Because things were thought to be getting rowdy during the heat of the night in that stirring time, it was thought wise to close the visitors’ bar and allow the press and Oireachtas staff to join TDs and Senators in the members’ bar. I have never been inside that exclusive club since that momentous night.

There have, of course, been many late nights in the Dáil. The rule, as far as I know, is to allow the bar to remain open an hour after the Dáil adjourns for the day. So if the Dáil gets up at 9 pm, the bar remains open until 10pm.
During the recent abortion debate in the Dáil, the bar stayed open until 5am. I think that was the latest time for the bar to be open since the arms’ crisis debate in May 1970. So if TDs were somewhat maith go leor in the Dáil chamber as dawn was breaking, you should be somewhat undersanding about how that might occur.

During the years, I saw many an inebriated TD contributing to Dáil debates. It has to be said, however, that few of those contributions were worth recording. The best that a drunken TD is usually able to do is to heckle other speeches.
There is a story told that a new TD, as yet unfamiliar with his surroundings in Leinster House and following a long session in the bar, was wandering aimlessly around the corridors.

As he turned a corner, who did he bump into but an always very sober James Dillon, a strict upholder of proper standards, who was just coming out of his office. “Excuse me”, said the new deputy, “but can you tell me where is the jacks?”

Deputy Dillon looked at the man with barely concealed disgust and told him, “You go back down that corridor, turn right at the end and there on the left-hand side you will find the door your are looking for.
“Written on the door is one word GENTLEMEN. But don’t let that deter you”.
By the way, I am told that among the first words of advice from Eamon de Valera to new Fianna Fáil deputies was to “avoid the Dáil bar”.

Many TDs who started off their political careers as pillars of sobriety often ended their days as total alcoholics. The Dáil bar is so convenient for those working in the place. Drink prices are fairly reasonable and the company can be better than in many pubs.

Instead of working in his office or sitting in the Dáil chamber listening to a dull debate, It is a great temptation to a TD to drop down to the bar for a drink or two. But just as he drains his second pint he is joined by a colleague who insists on buying a round.

Our TD has that round, but feels he must return the compliments. Then they are joined by others. The craic gets mighty and he doesn’t feel the night slipping away. You know how it is yourself. It can happen even to journalists.
Some of the best news stories were always to be found in the Dail bar rather than in the chamber. The difficulty was to be able to stay sober enough to be able to write the story. Or to remember it the next day.
Perhaps it would be best – for politicians and for press – to close down the Dáil bar and let them drink if they want to in any one of the many excellent pubs fairly adjacent to Leinster House. Or at least insist that the Dáil bar conform to normal pub opening times.

Perhaps that is the right way forward. But personally I believe that if the Dáil bar were to be no more then the fun that makes Irish politics unique would also disappear.