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The Irish government has just announced a new plan to return power to local authorities over the coming years. Fresh off the heels of Tánaiste Simon Harris blaming powerless local authorities for property dereliction and the Taoiseach bestowing the responsibility for dealing with the controversial Bessborough mother and baby home site to a Cork City Council without the financial or political authority to deliver results, this move can only be interpreted as a scheme to shield government TDs by yet again blaming County Councils.
The Housing Minister James Browne has been very explicit that this will prevent councillors from “[hiding] in the marasma of not having to make decisions” because of their lacking political power.
To the foreign observer, the structures of the Irish political system appear at face value to operate the same as any they would in other country. We have a President, a Taoiseach, a legislative assembly composed of two chambers, and a wide-ranging spread of local authorities. But hidden beneath a mask of parochialism and regional pride, the Irish political system is actually one of the most centralised democracies in the Western world.
In Ireland the lines between the executive, legislative, and judicial branches of government have long been opaque, with the Taoiseach of the day wielding near absolute authority. Ireland was not always like this. In fact, the first Irish constitution, created in 1922 saw Seanad Éireann as a body with a legislative authority of its own and the power to check the overreaches of the lower house. The subsequent 1937 constitution introduced by Éamon de Valera’s Fianna Fáil party gutted the authority of the Seanad, turning it into its contemporary form: a holding pen for failed General Election candidates and a rubber-stamping talking shop.
So loathed was the Seanad’s remaining powers to propose amendments to legislation that Fine Gael Taoiseach Enda Kenny sought, and failed, to abolish the institution in a 2013 referendum. But Kenny’s rotten legacy of corroding the institutions of the Irish political landscape is most evident in his Local Government Reform Act 2014.
A former supporter of the Act while in government, Brendan Howlin, leader of the left-wing Labour Party and Fine Gael’s traditional coalition partner, even admitted in 2019 while sitting in the opposition benches that it was a mistake for the government to get rid of Town Councils.
The Local Government Reform Act did far more than abolish Town Councils, effectively municipal-level elected positions that the current coalition government wants to restore in name only, it also cut the number of regional assemblies, bodies which were used to draw European funding for local development under the guise of streamlining and efficiency.
The centralisation of power in the hands of the central government in Dublin is further evident at local political levels, and it is a systemic issue. The Chief Executive, a government-appointed figure, is responsible for the executive functions of the Council, not the Councillors. As such, Irish local government is plagued by persons without a democratic mandate corralling those who do into pre-approved policy positions. The removal of water and wastewater functions to Uisce Éireann, the lack of revenue-raising powers, and the dependence on central government funding all restrict local authorities from actually doing so. In fact, this issue has been highlighted at Irish politicians’ much loved multilateral level, as the Council of Europe in 2023 released a report criticising Ireland’s centralised model. The report noted particularly that “the position of local government is weaker in Ireland than in most other European countries. It has a more limited set of functions, represents a smaller share of public affairs, and can only marginally influence the size of its resources. The strong position of the chief executive also limits the role of the elected representatives.”
So does the new “Local Democracy Taskforce” solve any of these issues? Absolutely not. The report completely ignores three issues that face the ordinary governance of local government in Ireland. The first and foremost is that Councillors have no legal protections for their remarks in Council chambers. Meaning that they are exposed to legal liability even if their statements are unequivocally correct or advocate for the interests of their constituents. The second is that it does not include access to funding for genuinely independent legal advice, which Councillors in Ireland must fund out of their own pockets without reimbursement, because the central government expects them to consult the in-house Council legal team. Thirdly, this same principle of independence and integrity in public office applies to access to specialist legal advice and an independent audit service.
Instead, the government’s plans are a wish-list of 79 items which it promises to deliver up until 2029, when the next local elections are scheduled to take place. No doubt, the TDs in Dáil Éireann are planning a political ploy to protect their seats at the expense of their party colleagues in local areas. This includes “giving” Councils more money by allowing them to adjust Local Property Tax from 15% currently, to 25% from 2027 onwards, as if such a move would not lead to public outrage.
It will establish Municipal Councils, which will be composed of already elected councillors, essentially increasing their workload. Though the report claims it will allow Mucipal Councils to form budgets with town-specific funding, it does not address the root cause of Council fiscal problems: the undue centralisation of these powers in the hands of the national government. But that is not the goal of this scheme, it is not intended to overhaul the powers of local authorities, it has been designed in accordance with the political interests of a failing national political class who are desparately searching for a scapegoat.
Much of the document promises to create new plans, documents, and processes for Councillors, but it does not stand up to scrutiny or to the principles of subsidiarity and the devolution of political power. Wherever the report claims it will bestow councillors with power or authority, there is a caveat of central government oversight and additional responsibility without any of the funds required to achieve the goals it sets out.
One such example is the Derelict Sites Tax, the Residential Zones Land Tax, and the Vacant Homes Tax, which will have ring-fenced revenue and funded administrative costs. Which in effect is going to result in the kinds of criticisms which Simon Harris peddled on national media that Councillors are not doing their jobs becoming a reality. They are regularising the falsehoods of their narrative to make sure it sticks at the next General Election.
But what is most interesting of all the proposals that the report includes, are the final two. The creation of a Women’s Regional Caucus Network to be established as a national body for female councillors, and the permission of AILG and LAMA to establish regional or national caucuses for minority Councillor groups. These are the most egregious plans of all. Understanding that we live in a society with two genders, male and female, who each compose half of the population in a democratic country where an elected official’s role is to represent their constituents regardless of gender, there is no reason for a national women’s caucus to be created other than for political point scoring.
Likewise, permitting the formation of caucuses for minority councillor groups will inevitably lead to religious and ethnic minorities such as the recent arrivals that make up Ireland’s Muslim population, being granted a unique foothold in the political system. With publicly-funded NGOs such as the Irish Network Against Racism associating with the Muslim Brotherhood-affiliated European Network Against Racism, the central government in Dublin are effectively opening the door with their new local democracy “reforms” for external actors to obtain influence in the Irish political system.