Ireland picks its President

Well, the oldie got it. Michael D. Higgins — commonly known as Michael D — has all but won the Irish presidential election. The little man who resembles a bard or a leprechaun, depending on your point of view, appears to have beaten off six undistinguished competitors to succeed the formidable Mary McAleese. At 70, he was the oldest in the field and looks, in fact, rather older.

You could say it’s a victory for non-partisan, non-party politics. Mr Higgins was the Labour candidate but he stood aloof from the fray during the campaign, declining to criticise his opponents. That presidential stance went down well — it set him apart, for instance, from the candidate from the majority Fine Gael Party, Gay Mitchell, who could never resist an opportunity to have a go at Sinn Fein’s Martin McGuinness. For a presidential candidate, it looks better to be above the catfight.

His election posters promise that Michael D (for Daniel) is a president to do Ireland proud. Will he? Well, he’s a flamboyant figure, a bohemian politician, with an engagingly high opinion of himself. He was a well-regarded minister for the arts in the days when the country was flush enough to spend money on theatres, and he abolished remaining elements of the censorship of broadcasting. Before becoming  a politician, he was an academic — a lecturer in politics and sociology — in Galway, after a stint in the States as a lecturer. And it shows — criticism of illiberal regimes, from Nicaragua to South Africa was once his strong suit.

As for his domestic approach, his agenda was tirelessly liberal. Or as his campaign website puts it, with characteristic self-regard, “Michael D. has been to the forefront of campaigns for progressive change on equal pay for women, access to contraception, divorce, the rights of people with disabilities and many other important issues. He often argued for these reforms in the face of a conservative consensus, and has often paid a high electoral price for standing up bravely for what he believes.”

You get the picture.

God knows whether he will find it in him to keep his opinions to himself once he’s installed in the Aras, the president’s base in Phoenix Park. He once admitted that if he had a fault it was that he talks too much. And he does: much too much. But he talks well, making him a decent representative for a notably articulate people.

What’s more, he’s fluent in Irish as well as English. He comes from the west of Ireland — he was brought up by an aunt and uncle in County Clare after his father’s illness, compounded by alcoholism, meant it was difficult for his parents to support the family. He’s a convivial character, a media favourite, fond of the races. And he’s a poet, with three published collections to his credit. Of the seven candidates for the Irish presidency he was the least unprepossessing. And for those who prefer age and experience to the alternative, he’s undeniably got both.