This page has several articles and letters from my bid for the Presidency of Ireland in 1997.


This is an article I wrote for publication after the campaign bid. It was published but I didn't keep track of where it was featured. 

The Presidential Nominations
From the garden to the Park---almost! An incredible journey.

I couldn't sleep for three nights that week in 1997. Finally, I made the decision to try for a nomination for the Presidency of Ireland. Fear and doubt were pushed to one side and at three o'clock in the morning of Thursday, 25th September, I sat down to write a presentation to send to chairpersons of county councils throughout the country. By early afternoon I had a base at the Ford Ri Hotel in Castletownbere and over fifty, 4-page faxes were winging their way to media and local politicians. A Pandora's box had been opened - I was riding the tiger - there was no going back.

A week before this, the prospect of my becoming a presidential nominee was about the furthest thing from my mind. My main preoccupation that autumn, as an organic smallholder living on the remote Beara Peninsula, was concern for my experimental, outdoor crop of tomatoes (1,000 plants) and whether they were ever going to ripen in that wet, cold year. Then, one night, after I had been explaining to an Irish/American neighbour and his guests, the intricacies of our presidential election system and the background of the candidates, I made the statement that, "Ireland probably has one of the most accessible political systems in the world - a people's democracy that really works, where, for example, any ordinary, decent citizen, without a political background or public image, and with a very modest budget could bid for the highest office in the land". He and his other American friends were astounded, if not downright sceptical, at this. 
Althought it did sound a bit dramatic and ultra-patriotic, I certainly believed that it was largely true and possible, especially then, as one of the candidates, Rosemary Scallon ("Dana") had signposted the so-called "county council route". Normally, although there had been contested elections, presidential candidates were proposed by the current government and the post was regarded as a sinecure for eminent party-servers. Since the early days of our state, however, it had been possible (but little-known) to bypass the party system of being proposed as a candidate and appeal directly to county councils for nomination. If you could secure four councils to support and nominate you, you then became an official candidate. There was another route possible too -  to get support from 20 members of the Oireachtas. Neither of these methods had ever been availed of before. This "back door" to becoming a presidential candidate was further facilitated this time by the government announcing that there would be no party whip applied to councils voting for candidates.
In the following few days, the thought began to grow that, not only was it possible for ordinary Joe Citizen to have a go at the Presidency but that it may be desirable for someone like myself, non-party, ordinarily non-political and environmentally motivated, to go forward for the job. President Mary Robinson's shoes were, I was thinking, not remotely going to be filled by me nor any of the other candidates in the arena already. I felt that I was as good as anyone else presenting themselves. I had issues about the environment, food and farming that I knew were important and should get a wider hearing. At the very least, I thought, I would get an opportunity to put those across in the national media. I was quite certain that none of the other candidates would have an agenda like mine and even if they had they would be constrained (three of them anyway) by party stictures from promulgating them.
Will I put my actions where my mouth is about our democratic system, I asked myself? 
Am I not being incredibly naive? 
What about the tomatoes? 
Late in the process as it was, and however unprepared, I finally threw caution to the wind that Thursday morning and decided to have a go.
I only had three working days - nominations closed the following Tuesday - to win the four co. council votes.
Despite a surprising welcome to my approaches from several chairmen, the time left was impossibly short to convene meetings and have a vote before the deadline. I got the impression that many councils were eager to exercise this "new" option and that there was a demand for another candidate - despite the fact that it was beginning to look like a crowded platform already.
Over the next 48 hours, there were flurries of phone calls and faxes and the start-up of media publicity. But by Saturday the "county council route" was obviously closed off, barring a miracle. So I decided to try the other option, that of seeking nominations from 20 members of the Oireachtas.
On Sunday night therefore, I set off for Dublin on my one-man campaign armed with a trusty, low-tech laptop, lots of A4 paper and folders, and my not-so-trusty 1981 Volkswagen Passat. It was a dark, and windy night, as the expression goes, wet and foggy too, and there were sheep and cattle on the road in the Cussane Gap. Along with that, a victorious Kerry army were making their way home from the Final with blinding headlights. Then, between Mitchelstown and Cahir, still only half-way to the capital, the car broke down. I got wet. I tore my best shirt. My papers were blown all over the place. I had to find a place to stay - at midnight! I did, in a congenial and warm hotel just up the road. I met a cousin and friends there who lived locally and were having a late night drink. I hadn't seen them in years. They were curious about my appearance at that time of night but were reasonably fobbed off by my explanation that I had broken down. One, well in his cups, kept saying that he had read something about me recently (there had been articles and photos in the papers that weekend), but I didn't enlighten him, and saw them off later. He was still saying, "I wish I could remember what that was...." 
The following morning, in the luxury of Buswells Hotel (a negotiated IP 100 for two days) opposite Leinster House, the parliament buildings, all previous mishaps were forgotten. With unexpected help from the staff of the hotel - 'til then I had turned down offers of help from family, friends and supporters - I was all ready on Tuesday morning (with four hours to go to the deadline) to lobby senators and TDs. I had 230, 5-page presentations in addressed envelopes (in three boxes) to deliver; one for everyone in the audience!
But I was stopped at the gates of the Dail! The Garda on duty called in for advice. You were not allowed to mass canvass TDs that way, I was eventually told. What to do? Although I had no illusions of winning support at this late hour and in this way, I thought I at least should deliver the material that had cost so much effort over the previous 24 hours. The Garda suggested I could post them! 
Then I spotted a Green Party TD, arriving on his bicycle, and explained my case to him. He was quite indignant on my behalf and argued his way past the gate with phrases like "respecting the democratic rights of citizens". He escorted me into the parliament building proper and signed me in as a guest. But shortly after, we were stopped by the Clerk of the Dail, with substantial security back-up. He was polite, but firm, and cited regulations that my TD escort could not refute, and, so, that was the end of that it appeared. 
The letters, however, did get distributed (most of them at least) by other means, directly into the hands of senators, TDs and secretaries. This involved a certain amount of deviousness and created quite a stir, not least another security one. 
The bottom line was that by the nominations' deadline at noon that day, I had no support from the members of the Oireachtas. I was quite relieved really, and felt I could now return in good conscience to Beara and get on with harvesting the tomatoes and the maincrop potatoes. I felt it was a pity that I hadn't got more opportunities to air my topics.
But it was then that things began to get really interesting; I was not on the ballot paper but there was serious interest in my attempt. Over the next few days, my story was well-covered in the media. I managed to get some of my strongly-held opinions across about the environment and the state of food and farming in Ireland. Not for me - the failed-to-get-nominated candidate - the centre-stage of the Late Late Show and open debate with the presidential candidates, but I got a good run for my money nonetheless.
Although it doesn't add up to an awful lot, I had a stream of letters, phone calls and faxes of congratulation from the public, friends, chairpersons of co. councils, TDs, ministers and senators. It was slightly heady stuff. I could be forgiven for thinking at that stage that I had got on the ballot! One prominent Senator went to some considerable trouble to contact me at a private telephone number that Tuesday night to say that; "It was a noble effort Jim; you almost certainly would have been on the ballot paper if you had started your campaign earlier. But, take heart; what you did was incredible. As a totally unknown entity, with no political base and hardly a  budget, you sold yourself to a lot of people in a very short period of time and almost solely on the basis of a written presentation. That's quite an achievement. We will expect to hear from you at the next presidential election, and I look forward someday to meeting the man behind the letter." 
Well, I don't know about that - my week in politics was interesting,even exhilarating at times, but seven years? 
But it was flattering for a political non-entity like myself to hear this sort of thing from political household names. On the other hand, a call to the RTE Newsroom on the Monday was dealt with peremptorily by the reporter on duty. Trying to get across my story, I was interrupted in mid-flow - "Mr O'Connor. Trying to get on the ballot is not news. If you get on the ballot paper - that'd be news. Call us back only if that happens". His voice was very familiar, but when I asked him his name he said, "Ray Burke". As he said it, and hung up, miffed I'd guess at not being recognised as the household name he probably felt he was, I realised it was the nemesis of the corrupt Burke, the daunting Charlie Bird, I was talking to. 
Sorry Charlie, but you were not big on Beara then (or for that matter now), no more than I was in Dublin. 
I started out on the campaign relatively naive about the procedures and politics of running for an Irish presidential nomination. I ended up being considerably better informed and pleased that I had tested our democratic process and expressed some of my ideas to a national audience.
And for such a bargain price  - IP 1,000. Where else in the world could you possibly get so far in the political process, so quickly and so cheaply?
I probably will never do this sort of political thing again but I understand how people become intoxicated and seduced with the power, real and apparent, of mixing it with the great and the good in the corridors of power of our controlling institutions. I was relieved to have tried, tested and tasted this milieu for a brief period but glad also that I was on my home to my vegetables, experiments gardens and occasional activism. 

Back in Castletownbere after my foray to the capital, I was being debriefed by a friend, the local librarian. We were partially overheard by a woman at the back of the library who invited herself into the conversation with a withering attack on the "men of Ireland". Where were they in this "handbag election"? she castigated, flashing her anger at me, the only man present. As I began to blurt indignantly, the librarian, eight months pregnant with twins, fell off her stool, hysterically laughing at the coincidence and the injustice of it and had us all worried about a premature delivery (she went full term and gave birth to two beautiful girls). 
The tomatoes just about survived the high winds whilst I was away, ripened and were sold or given away. Never again would I try to grow tomatoes outdoors in Ireland. It had been a Sisyphean task every time the wind blew and thousands of ties had to be renewed. The late and all-together ripening created a log-jam, and the immediate perishability made me a typical price-taker in a buyer's market - the curse of the farmer. In subsequent years, I only grew tomatoes in tunnels. 
I will continue to lobby for Ireland* to be a pure food producer - again, to be, if not the Organic Garden of Europe, at least, cleaner and greener, and, hopefully, pursue an MA in History (I've applied late for that too but there's still a good chance that I may be more successfull in this than I was in my  bid for a presidential nomination).

*Later I started an activist website, www.planorganic.com 

 


This was my main presentation letter, sent to all member of the Oireachtas. Slightly changed, it was also the format sent to county and district councils.

FORD RI HOTEL                                                                                
Castletownbere,
Beara,
West Cork.
Tel. 027 70379
Fax 027 70508 and at; 

Buswells Hotel
Tel. 01 6764013
Fax 016762090

Sept. 29th 197

POTENTIAL PRESIDENTIAL NOMINEE; JIM O'CONNOR

I wish to put myself forward as a candidate for the Presidency of Ireland and I am asking you, the elected members of the Dail, for your support by granting me the privilege of your nomination.

I realise that my bid to enter the Presidential race is coming at a late moment but even so, there may still be time to seek and get suppport.

As I am a complete stranger to most of you I will try, if you will grant me the attention, to tell you something about myself and why I think I am a suitable candidate for the highest office in the land.

My father's family lived for generations in South Tipperary and we are related to Walshs, Ryans, St.Johns and Daverns among others. My mother's father was a Synnott from the Clonmel area and her mother was an O'Brien from Tallow in Co. Waterford. The family farm was at Kiltinan, near Fethard and I had a good, if sometimes hard, schooling in practical mixed-farming in the '50s. My other education was at the local Patrician Brothers' schools. Though our secondary school was small and educational and other facilities restricted we had a great hurling team which won the Munster Colleges' Cup in 1963. I played in the forward line on the team.

Not being sure whether I had a vocation for farming I went to England in 1965 where I worked for four years as a commodity buyer in both a multinational and a County Council. I went travelling in Europe in 1969 and later was accepted by Reading University to study for a degree in Agricultural Economics. My ambition then was to solve the world's food problems!

As I was about to enter my third year a crisis developed at home and I returned to Ireland to help out. I thought we would resolve the problems, mostly financial, in a year ---it took seven! The early to mid '70s were very difficult years in Irish farming as some of you I'm sure well know. It was a hard and practical school again but I learned two great axioms which were not taught in schools and colleges---when everyone says; " Get out; dont do it!"--stay in and do it! And the other was --quit when you're ahead!

After applying these two principles in 1979, following a successful large-scale potato crop, I left farming for the second time. In the meantime I had married and we had a son in 1980. We bought a large old building in Clonmel, renovated it extensively ourselves, and reopened a bookshop there that we had bought in a rented premises a few years before.

The following ten years were very active, if in a different sort of way. They were also marked by sadness and grief. Both my parents died in the mid 1980's and I also became legally separated.

The business became quite successful and I had the opportunity both to travel (e.g. I spent six months in south America in 1986) and to get involved in local affairs. I was a member of the Chamber of Commerce, the Tidy Towns Committee and was very active during Clonmel's bid for the "Entente Florale" town competition. I republished a much-loved local book, "My Clonmel Scrapbook" by James White, and was also involved with Roberts' Books, Kilkenny, in publishing the internationally acclaimed source book on Irish local and national history, Burke's "History of Clonmel".The first copy of the latter, leather-bound and hand- engraved was presented to the Taoiseach, Dr Garret Fitzgerald, when he opened a Digital Corp. factory in Clonmel. President Mary Robinson was later presented with copies of both books when she visited Clonmel.

I sold the business in 1989 and spent the next few years looking after my son and researching history and publishing projects. I should point out perhaps that I have since the '60s always been self-employed and self -sufficient i.e. I never in that time sought a paid regular job or looked for benefit or aid from the government or indeed any other organisation. This is my first job application in Ireland!

I've always had a deep interest in local history. I completed a Diploma in Local History at St Patrick's College, Maynooth in 1994 and I have applied to do an MA in History at UCC this year. My thesis for the Diploma was on the Great Famine in South Tipperary and particularly about a Robin Hood style gang who wouldn't take starvation lying down in those terrible times (sadly however the leaders were eventually hanged for their radical "community work"). I have written two booklets on local history and had a well-received article and photographs about Slievenamon published in Bord Failte's, "Ireland of the Welcomes", (March/April 1994).

For the last two years I have been doing, what I call, "experimental farming" on a small-holding here on the Beara Peninsula. Again I am back to the land. I have an ambition to see the agricultural community develop and prosper through sustainable, environmentally-careful farming methods, which of course would benefit the whole population. My vision would be to see the largest amount of healthy clean food available to the largest number of people at the lowest possible cost.

That cost can be cheaper than conventionally produced food. It can be done -- and I believe I can prove it! The benefits to the country and consumers could be huge. I have been researching ideas on how traditional farming could be revived and made more efficient to achieve those ends.(For anyone who wants to know further I can send a fuller statement/article on the subject).

I am not a member of any political party and have always voted according to the quality of local candidates and their policies.

Although born into a Catholic family I haven't practised for thirty years and don't intend to in the future. I am not a member of any other religious or philosophical group although my life is guided by what most people would regard as " christian principles". I have taken stands in the past on environmental issues - most recently, two years ago, over the siting of a large industrial wind-generating plant on Slievenamon. We got fantastic support from the community and most of our local politicians - the project was quashed (I am not outrightly against wind-power - but you can't put these huge developements on major historical and amenity areas!).

Although I am a gun-owning countryman and prepared to shoot and eat fur or feather that threaten my crops, I am against blood-sports, especially live hare-coursing and fox-hunting. 

On another campaign I was interviewed in Ballyporeen, at the time of President Regan's visit, by NBC and CBS television. I was looking for the release of Fr Neill O'Brien and an Australian priest who were under sentence of death in the Philippines (I admire all people who fight the brave fight for human justice). I think I gave the networks a dignified and intelligent view from Ireland despite their desire to only portray the paddywhackery image they were used to. At the same time a man going to the creamery on his donkey and cart flummoxed them with a critical cross-examination on American foreign policy in Central America --on a live broadcast! (A phonecall from Regan to Ferdinand Marcos, before the Irish visit, secured the release of the two condemned priests).

I encourage a "can-do" attitude in my son, myself and others and I believe it when I tell him that he has been privileged to be born into a time which has the potential of becoming a Golden Age. This is an exciting time for Ireland too with our economy burgeoning and with the firm prospect of an enduring peace in the North.

As I was saying to some foreign visitors this week we are a complex, resourceful, literate and humane society but above all we have unique political access. Where else in the world for example could a completely unknown, relatively penniless, idealistic citizen sit down in front of his typewriter and make a bid for the Presidency of his country -- with a chance of success?

Help prove to me that my faith and optimism in our Irish democratic system is well founded by nominating me as your candidate for Aras an Uachtarain.

If you did honour me with your vote I promise you I would do my upmost to carry out the duties of the office, loyally, honestly, with dignity and compassion and continue to portray at home and abroad the intelligent, diverse and caring society that Mary Robinson so well projected and characterized during her unique Presidency.

Thank you for your attention.

Mise le meas

Jim O'Connor