Kenny’s U-turn on Special Advisers

Taoiseach Enda Kenny’s defence of his U-turn on capping the pay of Special Advisers set me to thinking.

Merrion Street
Dept of An Taoiseach

When they came into office just eight months ago the Taoiseach started out well. He announced the withdrawal of ministerial cars and garda drivers from most Cabinet Ministers and was seen striding to work onfoot with no merc or beemer in sight.

He also said that he intended to take a similar approach to Special Advisers pay. The results there have been less impressive. Contrary to the declared intention to reduce the pay rates, it now emerges that almost 50% of them have been given exemptions and are now paid above the Principal Officer grade.

The Taoiseach defends this saying that Advisers are still paid less than previously.

Is that really so, Enda?

Back in October 2004 I was asked to become the Special Adviser to the newly appointed Defence Minister. It took me about five or six weeks to wind up my existing business and take on my duties as Special Adviser.

Within a few days of taking on the position I sat down with the Department’s HR manager. He talked me through the Departments requirements and regulations.

There were a number of forms to sign, covering a range of matters including security and related matters. I was required to produce the usual tax forms required of any new employee plus a Tax Clearance Certificate.

He then produced my contract of employment. We discussed some of the provisions while I leafed through the document. Then we both went quiet at the same time.

When it came to my pay rate the contract stated that I would be paid at the first point on the Assistant Principal (AP) grade. My understanding when I had accepted the post was that I would be paid at Principal Officer (PO) grade.

The difference between the first points on the AP and PO scales was in the region of €25k. The first point on the AP scale was in or around €57K as best as I can recall now.

I was a bit taken back by this and said as much to the HR manager. He explained that the default rate for my post in the department was AP grade unless I could show that my previous salary had been higher than that.

I relaxed as I knew I should clearly show that my annual income over the previous few years was in excess of the AP scale. It did take a few weeks to sort out but the paperwork was finalised as my first year’s pay was set at the first point on the PO scale.

I am not revealing anything new here. I am open about my salary as the then opposition used to ask parliamentary questions about my pay and expenses, and that of my colleagues across other Departments, at least twice a year. The replies were published regularly.

Indeed I recall opening an issue of the Sunday Independent as I was queuing to board a Ryanair flight to visit my parents in Spain and seeing one of those replies featuring my name, photo and pay rate there.  Worse still, I saw some people on the plane later holding copies of the Sindo and glaring at me.

Those replies usually pointed to the fact that there were fewer advisers in the post 1997 FF/PD Governments than there had been in the 94-97 FG/Lab/DL one. About 30% fewer: as far as I remember.

I make this point as the Taoiseach has sought to assert that paying 50% of their advisers at the first point on the PO scale is some big advance on the situation while I was there.

It is not.

The point on the scale is the same, though the scale has reduced. It was reduced by the last Government, not this one. As advisers we agreed to a 9% voluntary reduction in our pay in line with the voluntary cut in Ministerial pay, as well as the increased pension contributions and reductions in civil service pay rates across the board.

Like many things this Government is doing they may want people to think it is different – the reality is that it is the same.

Acknowledging Army was bad for SF business

This is my recent article on Martin McGuinness & Sinn Féin’s “profit before principles” approach to Óglaigh na hÉireann/Defence Forces in the Evening Herald on Friday Sept 30th – see it online here

I LIKE Senator John Crown’s test for judging the presidential race: “The presidency … should be prize for best pupil, not the most improved pupil”

It is a valid point. Martin McGuinness is one of many people who have — at varying speeds — helped move this island to a more peaceful existence.

But his story comes in two parts. If he is to get the positive marks for the latter part, then he must also accept the negative ones for the earlier part — and these are considerable.

Many men and women had to pay a heavy and lasting price for the delay in McGuinness, and others, coming to the conclusion reached years before by such inspirational figures as John Hume, Seamus Mallon and Ivan Cooper.

Now his supporters moan at his past being dragged up and the savage killings of the likes of Frank Hegarty and Jerry McCabe being discussed as if the “constructive ambiguity” that was devised to bring Sinn Fein into the political process had become their birthright.

They claim that younger people are not interested in the past. I am not sure that is as true as they think, but even if we do accept that argument, the concerns about their candidate are not all based in the past.

Some stem from the fact that the past stretches forward to touch us today. Take, for instance, Sinn Fein’s attitude to the Irish Defence Forces.

This is an important issue. The Constitution states that supreme command of the defence forces is vested in the President (Article 13.4) and that all officers of the defence forces hold their commissions from the President (Art 13.5.2).

The ambiguous nature of Sinn Fein’s attitude to the Irish Defence Forces post Good Friday agreement was of interest to me when I was adviser to the Minister for Defence.

Though Martin McGuinness the presidential candidate now says he accepts that Oglaigh na hEireann is the Irish Defence Forces, back then the only time you heard the words Oglaigh na hEireann from him or from Gerry Adams, it was a reference to the Provos.

Martin’s volte face on this matter is welcome, though long overdue. He accepts that only the Defence Forces, as successors to the Irish Volunteers, are entitled to use the title: ‘Oglaigh na hEireann’.

Section 16 of the Defence Acts states: “It shall be lawful for the Government to raise, train, equip, arm and maintain Defence Forces to be called and known as Oglaigh na hEireann or (in English) the Defence Forces.”

Perhaps the reason McGuinness and Co found it hard to acknowledge the existence of the Defence Forces was that doing that might be bad for business.

The business in question was the Shinners own online shop. There they busily flogged items, including T-shirts, mouse-mats, bracelets, pendants and signet rings, bearing the title Oglaigh na hEireann, to grab every last euro and dollar they could.

On three occasions, the then Minister wrote to the Sinn Fein leadership, North and South, asking them to remove this material from sale.

The letters were acknowledged, but despite repeated attempts to engage with them, no substantive response was ever issued.

I checked their website again last weekend and was amazed to find that Sinn Fein was still making money from the sale of jewellery bearing the words Oglaigh na hEireann.

While some of the items complained about back in 2005 have been ‘disappeared’, a number are still there. The online description of one of those, a signet ring selling for €45, said: “The inscription reads: Oglaigh na hEireann — which is Irish for Irish Republican Army.”

This gombeen attitude to our heritage and to those who serve our nation is not very presidential. The fact that it still continues suggests that McGuinness’ move on accepting the Defence Forces may not be as deep as it seems.

Well, maybe not until all their back stock of trinkets have been flogged off — profits before principles.

Why current crisis is more political than economic

My latest Evening Herald column from August 8th 2011 – you can also see it online: here

——————————

Euro Parliament Committee Room - Bxl

Success has many fathers, but failure is an orphan. Clearly, no one has told the economists this.

In any other walk of life — architecture, dentistry, cake decorating — people run away when they see failure or disaster looming.

Not the economists. They embrace disaster. They revel in it.

As soon as a crisis looms they rush to the TV camera and the microphone to say how they predicted it.

They take a pride and pleasure in being associated with doom and failure that would do your heart good, if the consequences were not so dire for the rest of us.

In the wake of last week’s market turmoil, the weekend papers and discussion shows were full of economists doing what they do best.

Switching between the radio stations on Saturday and Sunday mornings was like playing some demented radio five-card stud — I see your dollar bond collapse and raise you an Italian bailout.

The Sunday newspapers were as bad with even more dire predictions of either the collapse of the euro or the dollar, or both.

We are living in uncertain economic times … and will be for some years to come. No one needs to tune into the radio to learn that.

This is a major culture shock for many, though not for those of us who lived through the Eighties … and no one wants to see another decade lost to despair and inactivity.

But I digress. So why have we seen renewed predictions of crisis this week? They do not seem to have been prompted by the publication of any eurozone statistics or hard figures.

Neither could they be reasonably explained away as just the result of a global slow news day.

While they may, in part, be due to the outworkings of the American debt ceiling compromise, the giveaway is in the word most often employed by economists in describing the crisis: confidence.

We have seen share values drop and bond costs increase over the past week because market analysts and investors do not have confidence in the capacity of eurozone countries to deal with all the debt in the system.

Could these possibly be the same investors who were protected from massive losses in banks and bad investments by those same governments?

Ironic, isn’t it? Eaten bread may be soon forgotten, but never with anything like the speed and hypocrisy with which socialised private losses are forgotten by the markets.

It is tough to make someone have confidence in you, particularly when you have not got much confidence or trust in them. But wringing our hands in anger on this won’t make the problem go away.

As I said earlier, the past week’s scare does not have its origin in a spreadsheet. It is fundamentally a political issue; not an economic one.

The real danger for us is that the dramatic actions and reforms the market is demanding in return for their “confidence” would be deeply unacceptable to people here and across the Eurozone.

This is the almost impossible balance that the eurozone leaders are trying to strike. To make the changes just about needed to gain market approval without totally alienating public opinion at home. The political spectre of Brian Cowen must stalk their deliberations.

Not that the eurozone leaders merit much sympathy. Merkel and Sarkozy’s slowness to act decisively in the early stages of this crisis has cost us all. Their dithering and loose talk threw Ireland to the market wolves in a futile attempt to stem the tide at no cost to themselves.

Their recent reforms to the European Financial Stability Fund have been more carefully judged, though these will take a while to work their way through.

Meanwhile, the next time you hear an economist demanding firmer and more determined actions, just remember that translates in higher taxes and higher charges for you and yours.

– Derek Mooney

How politicians helped redeem themselves by taking on the big guys

My Evening Herald article is online Here

Saturday July 23 2011

JUST by coincidence, I happened to be passing through Brussels this week.

From the window of my hotel room near the Schuman roundabout, I could both see the European Council building and hear the sirens roar as EU heads of government arrived for the emergency EU summit.

From the the TV in the background I could hear and see the continuing fallout on BBC World news from the hacking scandal, while on my laptop I read and listen to the deserved praise being heaped on the Taoiseach for his speech on the Cloyne scandal.

As these three separate news stories competed for my attention it began to dawn on me that these three very different events have a common thread: how politics can work and how politicians can make a difference when they reflect the public mood.

In the case of the News of the World hacking scandal we see the politicians finally recovering their sense of confidence and self worth and shedding their decades of deference to one media mogul.

In the European Council decision we see politicians taking bolder and coordinated actions to exert some meaningful control over Europe’s economic destiny and shunning the cautious advice of bankers or ratings agencies.

In the case of Enda Kenny’s Cloyne speech we see a political leader not just standing up to Rome, but finding his voice calmly and forcefully telling it some home truths and reminding it how much it has lost its way.

redeem

By their actions and words, across these three events, public representatives have helped redeem the profession of politics somewhat by taking on three of the most powerful interest groups: the Church, the banking sector and the media.

This is no renaissance for politics, but just a timely reminder that politics and politicians can rise above the cynical and do good.

While the common thread in the three events is the primacy of democratic politics, it is no harm to reflect on how much further Enda is along the road of telling the Church its role and place in modern society than David Cameron is in his attempt to break this news to Rupert Murdoch and News International.

Nonetheless, this should not stop us taking a leaf out of Westminster’s book and, just as the MPs did with the Murdochs, bringing senior churchmen before a public hearing of a Dail Committee to answer questions from the people’s chosen representatives.

Just over a year ago the Papal Nuncio refused to appear before a committee considering the report of the Murphy Commission.

Let us test the water now to see if the Vatican and the Nunciature think they can sustain this refusal to answer for their actions.

As Fergus Finlay said, the Taoiseach’s Cloyne speech has set the bar high.

It follows on from Brian Cowen’s hard hitting speech responding to the Ryan Report and Dermot Ahern’s declaration following the Report of the Murphy Commission that a “clerical collar will protect no criminal”.

To quote Brutus in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar: “There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.”

Enda has taken that tide and the Cloyne speech will help establish a political legacy.

However, while he is entitled to enjoy the coming few weeks as the speech continues to reverberate, he should make a quick call to a certain former Taoiseach in Drumcondra to discover how quickly the sheen on his real achievements in the Good Friday Agreement can be dulled by harsh economic realities.

opportunity

Enda needs to apply the same clarity of language and and certainty of approach to tackling the economy that he has found in tackling the Vatican and Catholic hierarchy.

The new measures agreed by euro leaders at the emergency EU Summit may just afford him such an opportunity — but he needs to take this particular tide soon and not squander the opportunities it affords.

Latest Herald column: First Anniversary of Dermot Earley’s Passing

This is my latest Evening Herald column: see here

Remembering Dermot Earley, a true Irish hero

By Derek Mooney
Saturday June 25 2011

IT IS a year since this country lost a man Enda Kenny described as iconic: Army Chief of Staff. Dermot Earley.

Far better people than me have given eloquent testimony to what an extraordinary man Dermot was. This can be readily verified by a visit to the excellent exhibition on his life and career at the GAA museum at Croke Park. On a purely personal level, what amazed me most about him was his capacity to command great authority while at the same time exhibiting a sense of humility.

He was strong and forceful, yet also gentle and relaxed. For almost six years, from 2004-2010, I worked down the corridor from him in the Parkgate HQ of the Defence Forces and Department of Defence.

Within a short space of time I witnessed his great personal skills, not least his ability to put people at ease. Both he and I were attending a social occasion organised by the soldiers’ representative body PDFORRA.

Through their involvement with the Euromil, the network of military representative bodies across Europe, PDFORRA had been supporting other groups seeking their own representation systems.

Attending the social function were three of four officers of a sister organisation not recognised by their own military authorities.

While I am 90pc sure I remember the country concerned, I won’t name it here. One of the PDFORRA senior officials asked me if I would mind meeting these guys. I said I had no problem and was introduced to them.

They were in civvies, as they were here on their own time.

IMPRESSED

Minutes later we were joined by Dermot, who arrived in the uniform of a Major General, as our Deputy Chief of Staff. He suggested we sit down at one of the tables and have a chat and a drink. The guys were not just impressed, they were visibly moved. Here was the second in command of our army not just meeting them, but sitting down and talking face to face when their own mid-ranking officers would not.

My other abiding memory was a a trip to the EUFOR HQ outside Paris. During a break, three or four of us, including Dermot, went outside to stretch our legs.

As we strolled we noticed a number of French soldiers on duty looking over at him from a distance. They could tell he was a senior general from his insignia, though it was clear they were unsure who he was, or where he was from.

He noticed this and chuckled as we saw them talk among themselves. At this point I piped up: “I think I know what they are saying.” “What’s that,” asked Dermot. “They are saying,” I replied, “you see yer man over there… he’s the greatest Irish footballer never to win an All-Ireland medal.” He looked at me sternly for about five seconds and then burst out laughing. He may have said something back at me, but I cannot quite recall just now. It is, however, the way I will remember him.

Ar dheis De go raibh a anam dilis.

– Derek Mooney