TAKE a man widely regarded as a great talker. Because he might be a bit too tough to be palatable as a result of a period of conflict and terror, make sure to steep him in the peace process to tenderise him. Add the spicy seasoning of an ardfheis. Get the temperature to a rolling boil, courtesy of elections north of the border. Take the man - the only all-island political party leader - dip him lightly in two TV interviews and, in theory, you have a tasty dish to set before a king.
Assuming you had a king.
When this scenario played out for Gerry Adams after the Sinn F�in ardfheis, the end result was not a dish to savour. The interviews were on TV3 and RT� One. TV3's Ursula Halligan, in relatively (for her) cuddly mode, asked Adams if he'd have stood for 'God Save the Queen' if he'd been at Croke Park for the rugby match. Fulfilling Albert Reynolds' one great truth about it being the small things that'll bring you down, Adams went bendy at the knees. Not only did he behave as if he'd been accused of nicking the jacket he was wearing, he behaved as if he knew he had nicked the jacket he was wearing.
As the interview moved on to electoral issues in the south, Adams went for safe condemnation. The health services were woeful. Because? Well, money. Even though the government is shoving Euro16bn into them? Well, the 15 million, oops, sorry, 16, oops, sorry, billion wasn't going to the right places. Look at A&E. Look at MRSI. MRSA, the interviewer snapped, fresh out of cuddly and right over there in ratty.
He acknowledged that MRSA was what he'd thought he'd been talking about.
Parboiled by TV3, Adams went for final crisping to the courteous Brian Dobson over at RT� One. Dobson civilly established, and even more civilly failed, to get triumphal over establishing the fact that Adams' grasp of current issues in the south is - well - presidential.
He can point to the obvious negatives.
He can indicate the appropriate presidential position on the obvious negatives (they shouldn't be happening). He can confirm his party's collective stance on the obvious negatives (they wouldn't be allowed to happen by us if we were in charge). He just can't tell anyone precisely how his party would fix the obvious negatives.
In the past, when asked such awkward, if bog-standard, obvious questions, he'd have bullied the interviewer with a little monotone lecture on how to do their job. But enough interviewers have stood up to that approach to render it counter-productive, so he controls himself and - in the process - proves that his grasp on the practicalities of southern solutions isn't quite as good as his grasp on the practicalities of vote management in west Belfast. At which, let us freely conceded, he is unequalled.
While Adams' post-ardfheis media performance is likely to get forgotten in the coverage of Sinn F�in's electoral successes in Northern Ireland, it shouldn't be. Because it points to two significant issues in the upcoming general election.
The first of those issues is the validity of the inclusion in opinion polls of Adams as a party leader beside Ahern, Kenny, Rabbitte and Sargent. Of course he is a party leader, but being ensconced in Belfast and rarely entering the fray down here removes him from the cut and thrust of current debate and leaves him unmarked by the battle.
Unmarked in two senses. Unmarked by performance - or lack of it - in the regular D�il slots by which the other party leaders are judged, week in, week out.
This gives him an immeasurable and unjustified advantage over them and undoubtedly contributes to his consistently high opinion-poll ratings. Opinionpoll respondents never get to see him making a mess, for example, of an attack on Bertie. Nor do they get to see him so consistently that they get bored by him.
Tightly controlled exposure to media can be a godsend to a political leader. It was precisely that to former taoiseach John Bruton. During his time in office, he kept himself, or was kept, away from the media. He somehow managed to avoid being trapped in front of 16 microphones. He did not allow himself to have to answer the down-and-dirty emerging specifics of each day's politics. Bruton was the living exemplar of the less-ismore principle. The less he said, the more respondents to opinion polls liked him. It's much the same with Gerry Adams.
As - essentially - a visiting leader in the South, he is also unmarked by the deep reality of issues, as was manifest in the recent interviews. That could present him and his party with a considerable challenge in the run-up to the general election. Because there's crossparty unanimity on the main problems to be solved by the incoming government, this is not a 'what?' election. It's not an election where voters or media are faced with clear black-and-white moral choices.
Nor is it going to be a 'where will you get the money?' election. The country's awash in money. That's a given. The money is there to do whatever needs to be done.
This is going to be a 'how?' election.
Party leaders are going to be forced to specify exactly what they would do differently, if they got into power.
And, right now, Adams is thin, not to say emaciated, on those specifics.
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