Norris For President No More
So, I'm not working on a presidential campaign any more...
I'm not really quite sure what to say at this point. It wasn't as if the Norris For President campaign is the only thing I've been doing over the last six months, nor was I one of the main people involved, but it was something different, it was something important and it was my first foray into "official" politics. My role on the campaign was, I suppose, middle-management-ish. Or certainly project management. I started out building the regional teams around parts of Leinster and then moved to build and run a team to manage the campaign's appearance at the National Ploughing Championships. The second job was the bigger of the two and involved significant time pressure. However with 180k people expected to attend the Ploughing (as I was advised it was called) the event was going to be a significant milestone on the campaign trail. It appears I won't need those wellies now.
I had fun doing this, I met some very passionate and able people and got involved in things that had the potential to really affect change on a national level. It was, on occasion, frustrating and, of course, it was hard work, but as the polls repeatedly placed the Senator at the top, it was difficult not to feel like we really had a great chance of putting an Independent academic into Áras an Uachtaráin (the Irish President's official residence). The setbacks were setbacks, but the campaign overcame them. Mistakes were certainly made, but none too grievous, or so it seemed. There was an optimism, an increasing passion, a hope.
One of the interesting things, I've found, about being involved in a campaign at the level I was at is that you know some things, but are very, very, very far from the real story. At the beginning of last week, between myself and my friend who was also involved, at a slightly higher level than I, we realised something big was happening. Meetings were postponed or cancelled, replies to emails and texts were taking a little while longer and the edges of a story started to appear. The Internet, not a place to be trusted at the best of times, was quietly bubbling as well, but this time we had more than just that to go on.
On Friday it all broke. Thankfully I didn't read about it online first. The Director of Elections (well, by that point, ex-) rang me and let me know a) what was going on and b) that he had resigned. Even though I knew something was going on, the reality came as a shock. I won't recount the story here, it's all over the Irish media, but shock was my reaction. Shock and the realisation that this couldn't be spun and really, even with my limited experience of politics, I simply couldn't see how the campaign could survive. I talked to a few people that day, some who were resigning, for their own reasons, some who, like me, wanted to wait and see what the campaign would say, what David Norris would say and clinging to a tiny hope that some miracle would occur.
The miracle didn't occur. Unfortunately neither did the communication. If anything, and I can't imagine what kind of stresses the campaign manager and the candidate were under at that point in time, this was the final nail in the coffin. As Friday turned into Saturday a number of members of the campaign, a lot of them around my level, started to resign, often on Twitter with no explanation. I understand why they did, but it didn't look well. And there continued to be no official communication from the campaign, either to the media or the activists. The news was everywhere by then and the official interview in an Irish Sunday paper did nothing to fix the issue. There were no live interviews and no emails to us. I did find out that more meetings were in doubt that week and then on Monday I knew for certain a statement would be issued and that all the official campaign meetings (both internal and external) were cancelled that week. At that point there could only be one conclusion.
So I didn't resign in the end and like everyone else still there, we suddenly found out we had no campaign to work for. Even though I was shocked by the news and angry that it had come as a surprise to the team, I didn't feel betrayed. I make no comments on those who feel they were, their emotions are not mine, but it isn't something I share. I got angrier as the silence continued, but I wanted to hear David's side of the story before I made any decisions. On Tuesday we heard that side of the story and, in one of the most dignified withdrawals from a campaign I've ever seen, he told the country he would no longer be seeking their vote as President. I genuinely believe, listening to him on the Last Word that afternoon, that he had forgotten about the letters he sent to Israel, I genuinely believe he didn't mean to hide anything, he just didn't think it was relevant, didn't think of it in that context. The fact remains that all of that was fatal to his campaign, but I have not lost trust in him as a man of conscience and integrity.
There are other things one could say about the campaign, both good and bad, but I do not think now is the time nor here is the place. Maybe later, maybe never, none of them are startling revelations and none of them would have had any real impact on what happened last weekend. I am proud of the part, no matter how small, I played and I'm sad I could not play it until the end. I'm doubly sad that David Norris will not be the next President of Ireland and that these events and his actions may tarnish all the amazing things he has done over the years. I am slightly relieved that I now feel able to comment on the election and the other candidates, but it's scant compensation.
I also think that, despite my experiences, or perhaps because of them, I would get involved in a similar campaign again, for the right person, and I'm very picky. It would be nice to feel that passion again, that sense of doing something and, most importantly, that sense of hope.
I'm not really quite sure what to say at this point. It wasn't as if the Norris For President campaign is the only thing I've been doing over the last six months, nor was I one of the main people involved, but it was something different, it was something important and it was my first foray into "official" politics. My role on the campaign was, I suppose, middle-management-ish. Or certainly project management. I started out building the regional teams around parts of Leinster and then moved to build and run a team to manage the campaign's appearance at the National Ploughing Championships. The second job was the bigger of the two and involved significant time pressure. However with 180k people expected to attend the Ploughing (as I was advised it was called) the event was going to be a significant milestone on the campaign trail. It appears I won't need those wellies now.
I had fun doing this, I met some very passionate and able people and got involved in things that had the potential to really affect change on a national level. It was, on occasion, frustrating and, of course, it was hard work, but as the polls repeatedly placed the Senator at the top, it was difficult not to feel like we really had a great chance of putting an Independent academic into Áras an Uachtaráin (the Irish President's official residence). The setbacks were setbacks, but the campaign overcame them. Mistakes were certainly made, but none too grievous, or so it seemed. There was an optimism, an increasing passion, a hope.
One of the interesting things, I've found, about being involved in a campaign at the level I was at is that you know some things, but are very, very, very far from the real story. At the beginning of last week, between myself and my friend who was also involved, at a slightly higher level than I, we realised something big was happening. Meetings were postponed or cancelled, replies to emails and texts were taking a little while longer and the edges of a story started to appear. The Internet, not a place to be trusted at the best of times, was quietly bubbling as well, but this time we had more than just that to go on.
On Friday it all broke. Thankfully I didn't read about it online first. The Director of Elections (well, by that point, ex-) rang me and let me know a) what was going on and b) that he had resigned. Even though I knew something was going on, the reality came as a shock. I won't recount the story here, it's all over the Irish media, but shock was my reaction. Shock and the realisation that this couldn't be spun and really, even with my limited experience of politics, I simply couldn't see how the campaign could survive. I talked to a few people that day, some who were resigning, for their own reasons, some who, like me, wanted to wait and see what the campaign would say, what David Norris would say and clinging to a tiny hope that some miracle would occur.
The miracle didn't occur. Unfortunately neither did the communication. If anything, and I can't imagine what kind of stresses the campaign manager and the candidate were under at that point in time, this was the final nail in the coffin. As Friday turned into Saturday a number of members of the campaign, a lot of them around my level, started to resign, often on Twitter with no explanation. I understand why they did, but it didn't look well. And there continued to be no official communication from the campaign, either to the media or the activists. The news was everywhere by then and the official interview in an Irish Sunday paper did nothing to fix the issue. There were no live interviews and no emails to us. I did find out that more meetings were in doubt that week and then on Monday I knew for certain a statement would be issued and that all the official campaign meetings (both internal and external) were cancelled that week. At that point there could only be one conclusion.
So I didn't resign in the end and like everyone else still there, we suddenly found out we had no campaign to work for. Even though I was shocked by the news and angry that it had come as a surprise to the team, I didn't feel betrayed. I make no comments on those who feel they were, their emotions are not mine, but it isn't something I share. I got angrier as the silence continued, but I wanted to hear David's side of the story before I made any decisions. On Tuesday we heard that side of the story and, in one of the most dignified withdrawals from a campaign I've ever seen, he told the country he would no longer be seeking their vote as President. I genuinely believe, listening to him on the Last Word that afternoon, that he had forgotten about the letters he sent to Israel, I genuinely believe he didn't mean to hide anything, he just didn't think it was relevant, didn't think of it in that context. The fact remains that all of that was fatal to his campaign, but I have not lost trust in him as a man of conscience and integrity.
There are other things one could say about the campaign, both good and bad, but I do not think now is the time nor here is the place. Maybe later, maybe never, none of them are startling revelations and none of them would have had any real impact on what happened last weekend. I am proud of the part, no matter how small, I played and I'm sad I could not play it until the end. I'm doubly sad that David Norris will not be the next President of Ireland and that these events and his actions may tarnish all the amazing things he has done over the years. I am slightly relieved that I now feel able to comment on the election and the other candidates, but it's scant compensation.
I also think that, despite my experiences, or perhaps because of them, I would get involved in a similar campaign again, for the right person, and I'm very picky. It would be nice to feel that passion again, that sense of doing something and, most importantly, that sense of hope.