As the presidential race tentatively takes shape, there is a current of quiet excitement rolling out from the west — and not just for the political theatre ahead. For the first time, there is the distinct possibility that two of Galway’s most remarkable political daughters, Dr. Máire Geoghegan-Quinn and Deputy Catherine Connolly, could feature prominently in the contest for Ireland’s highest office. In a race that is often framed by personality and geography, there is something deeper stirring here: the opportunity for two extraordinary, sea-shaped lives to bring Ireland a story it sorely needs to hear.
Politics is rarely poetic, but every so often, it throws up a moment rich with symbolism. That two women from Galway West — both fluent in the native tongue, both formed by a landscape of salt, stone, and struggle — might stand for the presidency at this time feels almost providential. The country is restless. The world, uncertain. And against that backdrop, the measured, principled leadership both women embody could offer a steadying hand and a reaffirmation of core values.
Máire Geoghegan-Quinn has long stood as a towering figure in Irish public life. It is almost 50 years since she became a national politician, and yet the scale of her contributions continues to reverberate. She was the first woman appointed to Cabinet since Countess Markievicz — a moment that shattered a half-century silence in gender representation. As Minister for Justice, she shepherded bold reforms, including the decriminalisation of homosexuality — a measure now seen as a turning point in Ireland’s modern evolution. She made a mark in Europe, too, becoming the European Commissioner for Research, Innovation and Science, and leading the launch of Horizon 2020, the EU’s most ambitious research programme to date.
I know from meeting her regularly that Máire remains intellectually engaged and culturally attuned — someone equally at home in policy documents and contemporary media discourse. Her track record, her gravitas, and her vision place her among the few figures with the credibility and capacity to elevate the office of president beyond ceremonial warmth. And yet, she has not declared. Whispers grow louder, but the decision is hers — and hers alone. Should she choose to run, she will bring not just a stellar résumé, but also a sense of continuity between Ireland’s past struggles and future aspirations.
Running alongside, though on a different path entirely, is Catherine Connolly — a political outlier in the best sense of the word. Known for her independence of thought, her calm authority, and her deep moral centre, Deputy Connolly’s presidential candidacy is not a calculated career step. It is an expression of purpose. From her early days as a barrister and psychologist, to her years as a city councillor, TD, and Leas-Cheann Comhairle, Deputy Connolly has built a public life grounded in social justice, community, and conscience.
She is, unmistakably, of Galway — not just geographically, but spiritually. Her upbringing in Shantalla, one of 14 children, and her tireless advocacy on issues from housing to mental health, make her voice a genuine and unfiltered one in the Dáil. Her fluency in Irish, her grasp of international affairs, and her unwavering commitment to marginalised voices all speak to the kind of presidency she would offer: principled, empathetic, and grounded in the Constitution’s vision of care and equality.
But her campaign will not be without challenges. Her outspokenness, particularly on matters like Palestine and military neutrality, may polarise. Yet the presidency is not a popularity contest — it is a moral mirror. Catherine Connolly’s ability to articulate difficult truths with poise and clarity could prove to be a strength, not a liability. She would, if elected, form the third consecutive presidential term with strong Galway links — a fact that may stir some debate about regional representation, but also reinforces the west’s enduring cultural and intellectual contribution to Irish life.
This is not a classic race. There are no ploughed furrows or nationalist epics here. And yet there is poetry in the possibility that the next president might emerge again, not from the establishment’s polished corridors, but from the wild Atlantic edge — a place of resilience, language, and rootedness. Whether it is Geoghegan-Quinn’s seasoned statesmanship or Connolly’s moral clarity that captures the public imagination, both women offer something profound: a lived understanding of service, shaped by place, sharpened by experience.
The road to Áras an Uachtaráin is long, and other candidates will emerge. But if both these Galway women make it to the ballot, the nation will be better for the choice. For once, it may be that the roar of the Atlantic can be heard in the echo chamber of Dublin politics — a reminder that the west still speaks, and can still shape the soul of the nation.
