The inside story: inside Sinn Féin's national headquarters

By Eoghan Dockrell

44 Parnell Street is the home ot Sinn Fein's national headquarters. The building bears no tell-tale sign of whom may be housed within. A few doors down the street is the official Sinn Fein shop. Above the shop door is the party name illuminated in green neon lights. Directly on-top is an oversized poster of Mary Lou. The poster scales the wall; it’s at least three stories tall. The sheer size of it ensures all pedestrians (potential voters) see her. Mission accomplished.

Myself and the cameraman were five minutes late for our third and final interview of the day. It was scheduled for 3.15. Labour's Proinsias De Rossa had held us up. That was the excuse. Would Sinn Fein's Mary Lou McDonald understand? Hopefully. I wrapped my knuckles against the solid oak door. No answer. I looked left and spotted a metal plate adorned with unlabelled buttons. I mashed my hand indiscriminately against them. Success. A man with a deep, croaky voice spoke through the metal box, telling us, he’ll "be there in a minute". The thick door creaked open.

We were ushered to the back of the building, down a long corridor. We stopped at the kitchen. It looked like a picture from a history book. The ceiling was low, claustrophobic. A shaky wooden table stood unconvincingly at one side; Republican themed posters lying against the cracked walls. Everything I expected, right down to the split, chequered tiles that covered the floor. The interior seemed bare and neglected. Mary Lou would later admit, post-interview, that the building deserved a renovation, but alas the "funds simply didn’t exist".

We waited patiently for Mary Lou to arrive. A man walked into the kitchen and informed us that she was currently held up in a meeting. He offered us a cup of tea. We said no thank you. The man stayed and talked candidly about the Dublin race, his candidate's chances of winning, Gerry Adams, and other colourful party members. The details of our conversation will not be divulged. Presumably, he was talking "off the record".

Moments later, Mary Lou appeared before us. We shook hands. I introduced her to the camera-man. She smiled politely. Without further delay we moved quickly to the conference room. She seemed purposeful, a candidate on a schedule, with many more appointments to go. We were just a footnote in her hectic day. Humbling.

As we talked on-route to the interview location, she told us that the room chosen is used for Sinn Fein executive meetings. Was this an ‘off the cuff’ remark engineered to intimidate? It certainly made clear which party was on home turf. We entered through double doors. The room had three noticeable features; a majestic fireplace; a grand conference table; and an impressive portrait of an unidentified man hanging crookedly on the wall. We were in the heart of the beast, so we taught it best to thread softly on the worn carpet. Two chairs were positioned beside the lead panelled window; One for McDonald, one for me. I requested the routine ten second count-down and then the interview commenced.

Leaving the room I couldn’t help but feel the state of the building mirrored the current state of Sinn Fein. Is it possible for the renovation requested by Mary Lou? Can the party experience a revival or are the glory days long over? No doubt in the past, Sinn Fein had the power to sway, through its decisions, public opinion. However, the decisions they make today in 21st century, 26 county Ireland do not seem to attract the same level of interest. What a sad state of affairs for a party so steeped in the history of Irish politics.