The skills needed for exercising presidential power cannot be learned on the job, writes NOEL WHELAN

AFTER THE drama of the 1990 presidential election this newspaper gave serious consideration to appointing a presidential correspondent. With Mary Robinson promising a more active presidency, the view was that it would be useful to have a reporter on the Áras beat full-time who could build an expertise in the area. The then editor Conor Brady tells in his memoirs how he ultimately decided against the idea, fearing it would echo the royal correspondent concept prominent in British media at the time.

It is a pity because, although presidents Robinson and McAleese both attracted considerable coverage, particularly during State visits, there has been relatively little coverage or detailed analysis of how the presidency has evolved over the last 21 years. In part because of the absence of specialist coverage, a caricature has been allowed to persist that the presidency is an insignificant post. It seems that the way the presidency operates is not even clearly understood by some of those currently campaigning for the job. The focus has obviously been on assessing the qualifications of the candidates but it is also necessary to appreciate the functions of the office. No aspect of our constitutional infrastructure has undergone such profound change in the last two decades as the presidency. In Paddy Hillery’s time the presidency was significant but his two successors have effected a further dramatic transformation in the standing of the office.

That they have done so without any change to the constitutional or legislative provisions and with only a relatively modest increase in the resources provided is testimony to the skills of both Mary Robinson and Mary McAleese. In the context of wider political reform, their achievement illustrates how the approach the officeholder takes to the exercise of his or her power can reform an office.

The functions of the presidency can be broken into two groups. Those that take up most of the president’s time can be described as the exercise of “soft power”.

Mrs McAleese has carried out more than 500 official engagements off-site every year. In addition she has invited about 10,000 people per year to Áras an Uachtaráin for various events. In deciding which of the many thousands of invitations to accept or whom to host at the Áras, the next president can also exert real influence. While not free to say much in policy terms, the president, by extending a welcome, can celebrate the importance of a group. By her very attendance she can shine a spotlight of recognition on their work. By her remarks she can articulate their worth. It takes careful judgment to use this power effectively and appropriately week after week and to ensure the presidency is not exploited for particular commercial or controversial purposes.

Presidential activity of this type is too often disparaged by those with no real appreciation of the significance which presidential recognition carries for people working in community projects in local areas or with groups on the margins. A further dimension to the president’s “soft power” is the manner in which at times of national crisis or celebration the president can articulate and even steady the national mood. For example, Mrs McAleese best illustrated the impact of the delicate exercise of this power in the days after the Omagh bombing in August 1998.

During the McAleese presidency, the soft power and status of the office has also been used for a series of significant projects, the impact of which has been all the greater because the work was done largely in private.

The other functions exercised by the presidency can be described as the exercise of “hard power”. These functions appear to take less time but are even more important. The most significant of these is the power to refer Bills to the Supreme Court. It is an important bulwark against executive and legislative overreach. The most controversial exercise of this power occurred in October 1976, when then president Cearbhall Ó Dálaigh referred the Emergency Powers Bill to the Supreme Court. The Bill had been rushed through the Oireachtas in response to the assassination of the British ambassador.

While referrals to the Supreme Court are rare, it is worth noting that 608 Bills have crossed Mrs McAleese’s desk during her time as President. The next president will also have to spend quiet hours in the same study at Áras an Uachtaráin assessing proposed legislation, considering the accompanying legal and official advice, deciding whether to call the Council of State, and then ultimately making the final judgment call.

The president also has the power to refuse dissolution to a taoiseach who has lost the support of the majority of the Dáil. In 1944, then president Douglas Hyde hesitated before granting a second wartime dissolution to de Valera, who had lost a vote on a transport Bill. In January 1982, Paddy Hillery resisted requests from Fianna Fáil to refuse dissolution after Garret FitzGerald lost a vote on his budget. There is always a possibility that the next general election could be inconclusive – at least as to whether Fine Gael governs alone or in a coalition – and that the president will be called on again to exercise this power.

In picking a new president, account must also be taken of the possibility that if there were a complete breakdown in our political system or government (and we came relatively close to one in December and January last) then the president might be expected to play a reassuring and perhaps even a more active role in order to settle the situation.

The skills necessary for the effective and careful exercise of presidential power cannot be learned on the job. The presidency requires complete integrity, a settled temperament, subtle judgment and a sophisticated appreciation of the complexities of the functions from the outset.