Why would anyone want to be Ceann Comhairle?

Apart from the perks of the job!

The position of Ceann Comhairle, the chairperson of Dáil Éireann, the so-called lower house of the Oireachtas, is one steeped in tradition, playing a crucial role in trying to maintain order and decorum during often fractious parliamentary debates. The Ceann Comhairle is elected by members of the Dáil and remains independent from political affiliations in their capacity as chairperson. This neutrality is paramount, ensuring that all members of the house have a fair shout to voice their views and that parliamentary procedures are upheld.

The Ceann Comhairle also has the authority to enforce rulings and can order members to remove themselves from the House and suspend proceedings if rules are broken or tempers flare beyond what is considered reasonable norms. When deputies are out of order, the Ceann Comhairle rings a bell. Something like you might see at mass. The current bell in use is a half-sized reproduction of the ancient bell of Lough Lene Castle, Westmeath, which is from the 7th century and can now be found in the National Museum.

That’s what political scientists might call the theory of how the office should operate. In reality, the job can be far more complicated than that. Have you ever tried herding cats? Picture a referee without a whistle but with a bell instead, tasked with managing the brawl of some mad, bad and dangerous pronouncements that make up the business of Dáil Éireann. It's a bit like trying to moderate a family argument over Christmas dinner, but only here, the stakes involve national policy and not who forgot to bring the cranberry sauce.

Some history.

The person who holds the position is elected by members of the Dáil in the first session after each general election. It’s been a secret ballot since 2016. The shortest length of time the office has been held was by Cathal Brugha, who held the office for one day in 1919. The longest the office has been held was by Fianna Fáil TD for Galway, Frank Fahy, who held the office for 19 years, from 1932 up to 1951. Two TDs died in office, and only one TD resigned because of what the taxpayer considered very poor behaviour, John O’Donoghue resigned after his lavish expenses scandals in 2009. It’s also fair to say O’Donoghue had a torrid time as Ceann Comhairle and was universally loathed by the opposition parties.

What are the perks, say you?

One of the distinctive perks of the role is that the Ceann Comhairle gets to do something every incumbent politician dreams of: leapfrog the electoral process post-appointment, as they automatically return to their seat post-election, no campaign posters, literature or canvassing needed, this tradition is intended to maintain the office's impartiality. Automatic reelection? Yes Please!

All TDs have a basic salary of €113,679 a year. The Ceann Comhairle gets paid an extra allowance of €141,834, bringing their salary to €255,513. Quite the compensation package for having to listen to Richard Boyd Barrett being in a perpetual state of shock or trying to decipher what Mattie McGrath or Danny Healy-Rae are bloviating about in their distinctive but sometimes unintelligible accents. Quite frankly, I don’t think the office holder is paid enough to have their mental fortitude tested on such a regular basis.

The role, despite its outwardly genteel presentation, hasn’t been without its moments of spicy controversy. Take the Arms Crisis of 1970—a time when an Irish political scandal involved loaded guns. Cormac Breslin, the Ceann Comhairle, had a tough time balancing debates on national security without turning the Dáil into a reenactment of “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly” was no small achievement.

Then came the banking crisis discussions of the 2010s, when money seemed to vanish as if caught in a magician’s disappearing act. Seamus Kirk, the Ceann Comhairle, had to wrangle these debates with all the dexterity of an octopus trying to cycle up Kildare street—balancing the unchecked fervour of the fiscally offended with the need for, well, not collapsing the parliamentary system.

Fast forward to the austerity protests of 2012, where the sitting Ceann Comhairle, Sean Barrett, had to channel his inner school principal when TDs were being expelled willy-nilly, like misbehaving teenagers from school. This led to a debate about the limits of the Ceann Comhairle's powers, particularly regarding how dissent and protest could be expressed within parliamentary proceedings.

Wexford TD Verona Murphy made Dáil history when she was crowned Queen of the Dáil, becoming the first woman ever to hold the chair and also the first TD from Wexford in the role. Murphy, in her acceptance speech, committed to being fair and impartial as well as “even-handed and even-tempered” in the role of Ceann Comhairle. Widely seen as a pugnacious TD, it will remain to be seen if she can keep that even temper when all hell breaks loose in the Dáil.