If the polls are right, then in seventy-two hours, Ireland may be saluting its next President — and hearing a familiar Galway accent echo through the national count centre at Dublin Castle. Catherine Connolly stands on the brink of a historic victory. Analysis suggests she is comfortably ahead of her main rival, Heather Humphreys. Yet, as every seasoned watcher knows, politics has a habit of humbling the confident.
Still, there’s a quiet momentum behind Connolly that feels different. What has defined Connolly’s campaign is not fire, but stillness. Where others jabbed for applause, she spoke softly and precisely. She doesn’t try to outshout her opponents; she simply outlasts them. In a season of noise and negativity, her calm has become her signature.
Connolly’s background explains much of it. Raised in Shantalla, one of fourteen children, she learned early how to listen and how to stand her ground. Her life — as a psychologist, barrister and independent TD — has been shaped not by privilege but by perseverance. She has seen hardship, tragedy and illness up close. She knows the difference between theory and reality.
As Leas-Cheann Comhairle (perhaps the best litmus test of her suitability for high independent office ), Connolly earned admiration from all benches for her fairness and restraint. She never needed to raise her voice to command respect. That composure, that sense of proportion, is precisely what the presidency requires. To think that she would suddenly depart from that if President has always been fanciful. The Irish presidency is not about wielding power. It’s about embodying the nation’s values — calm, wise and independent. On that score, Connolly is a natural fit.
But she is not everyone’s cup of tea. Her independence has often made her a thorn in the side of local interests. In Galway, many who respect her principles have long disagreed with her opposition to aspects of the city’s development — the ring road, the docks plan, the Bish move, the Castlegar move, and various housing projects that she argued would compromise community or environment. To some, those stances marked her as an obstructionist; to others, they proved she would not bend to expediency. She frustrates people because she cannot be boxed in — and that, paradoxically, may be what makes her presidential.
If elected, she will continue a remarkable Galway tradition. For over a decade, Michael D. Higgins has redefined the role, showing that the office can be moral without being moralistic, principled without being partisan. Connolly’s victory would extend that western idealism — and perhaps keep the Áras in Galway hands for another decade, maybe more if she gets used to it.
It would also trigger Galway West’s first bye-election in fifty years, a political subplot that will have pundits and party strategists sharpening their pencils before spring. But that contest can wait.
For now, it is Connolly’s tone that has stood out — steady, deliberate, occasionally defiant, but never cruel. This campaign has been bruising, even bitter at times, revolving around a handful of narrow issues that too often descended into accusation. Yet Connolly refused to play the part scripted for her. She stayed herself.
Her critics have tried everything — painting her as naïve, radical, even untrustworthy, but she weathered those storms. Connolly’s independence isn’t rebellion for its own sake; it’s rooted in principle. She doesn’t need to be liked to do what she thinks is right. And that, for many voters, is precisely why they trust her.
If she wins on Saturday, I have no fear of her bringing the presidency into disrepute as has been suggested. Quite the opposite. She may restore some of the grace and patience that has gone missing from public life. I have oft penned here about how political discourse has become debased.
The presidency, at its best, is not about power but example. It asks for someone who can hold the nation’s conscience gently in their hands. Connolly has shown she can do that — not through slogans, but through substance.
Her opponent has suffered perhaps from being a late entrant into the race. In the same way that an appearance on Love Island necessitates six months notice so you can get your abs ripped, the Irish presidential election is never one for those who have not planned it from far out.
But, there’s many a slip twixt the cup and the lip — her momentum-led campaign needs one final push and that will surely come when the voting booths open in the morning. If she ends the day ahead, it will complete a remarkable story for the Galwaywoman.
