'People who get up early in the morning': Irish political capital and the resonances of Iarnród Enda (2021)

ABSTRACT This article considers, contrasts and compares the images of three of Ireland’s Taoisigh – Brian Cowen, Enda Kenny, and Leo Varadkar – by situating each Taoiseach along an axis of consumption, stretching from austerity on one hand, to overconsumption on the other. In particular, the popular image of Varadkar is carefully explored, charting how artefacts such as Instagram photos of carefully prepared lunches and birthday celebrations, form a key part of Varadkar’s efforts to position himself as the ardent champion of neoliberalism. Despite such efforts, I argue that it is Kenny who emerges as a paragon of neoliberal citizenship, and thus is an ideal host for 2021 travel history series Iarnród Enda. The article then explores the ideological resonances of the series and its role in rehabilitating the somewhat damaged image of its host, as well as the symbiotic relationship Kenny enjoys with the rural landscape through which he travels, illuminating the function of the series in presenting a consummately neoliberal vision of rural Ireland. Iarnród Enda, I argue, further acts as an extension of existing State campaigns advocating for a relocation from overcrowded, expensive cities into rural hinterlands conceptualised as an entrepreneurial nirvana.


Introduction
While popularly dismissed in the Irish press as "a largely forgettable journey . . . with little in the way of meaningful conversation taking place." 1 former Taoiseach of Ireland (2011-2017) and leader of centre-right party Fine Gael (2002-2017) Enda Kenny's 2021 travelhistory series Iarnród Enda, exploring the abandoned railways of rural Ireland by bicycle, offers unique insights into the former Taoiseach's public image, and his almost symbiotic relationship with rural Ireland. This article compares the image of Kenny to his predecessor as Taoiseach, Brian Cowen, as well as his immediate successor, Leo Varadkar, locating each of them along an axis of national neoliberal consumer culture, going on to analyse the almost symbiotic relationship between Kenny and rural Ireland. The latter task entails examining Iarnród Enda's conceptualisation of rural Ireland in line with contemporary neoliberal ideology, through narration by Kenny, and how the former Taoiseach's presentation of the rural is influenced by his persona as the ideal neoliberal citizen. For my purposes here, the use of the term "neoliberal" refers not just to particular economic or political policies but to an entire "set of social, cultural, and political-economic forces that puts competition at the center of social life:" under neoliberalism, all emphasis is placed upon the individual and their efforts as State-level interventions "are believed to squash entrepreneurialism and individualism." 2 Instead, the State should focus its efforts on creating the ideal conditions for the competition which will supposedly create "a truly free social world where the best people and ideas come out on top." 3 Iarnód Enda, the series under analysis here, is an affectionately presented travel-history programme, featuring Kenny cycling along various derelict railways which span a variety of rural counties. Very much like British counterpart Great British Railway Journeys, presented by Michael Portillo, the series takes a sentimental approach to depicting the derelict railways, with long, sweeping shots of the rugged rural landscape accompanied by upbeat music and an animated introduction. The series also takes an individualist approach to the preservation and restoration of the railways it depicts, and injects a certain sense of stability into what might otherwise be an alarming depiction of declining and rapidly decaying infrastructure. The series then, is comparable to existing reality television offerings such as popular series Cheap Irish Homes which lend stability to an otherwise precarious world of home ownership 4 as well as proposing an individualist approach to preservation, where the purchase of homes by private individuals allows the rescue of properties "which are crying out to be saved for future generations" 5 This article, then, will explore popular characterisations of three Taoisigh -Brian Cowen, Enda Kenny, and Leo Varadkar, considering each of them in relation to contemporary neoliberal ideology, which I argue advocates for a form of self-optimisation and a paradoxical approach to consumption which is at once self-restrained and indulgent. Furthermore, I contend that in comparing each of the three Taoisigh that despite Varadkar's strong association with neoliberal citizenry, it is Kenny who emerges as a paragon of such socioeconomic values, rendering him the ideal host for Iarnród Enda, given the series couching of bucolic touristic imagery in consummately neoliberal language.

Cowen, Kenny and Varadkar
Brian Cowen became Taoiseach just in time for the disintegration and collapse of the Celtic Tiger economy. The Fianna Fáil leader's time as Taoiseach was notable for his close association with the deep economic recession, an inability to account for or halt the sharp decline of Irish economic fortunes, and imposition of hugely unpopular fiscal policies, particularly the "bailout" of Ireland. Given Cowen's close association with the sharp economic downturn, it is perhaps unsurprising that he broke records in rapidly becoming the most unpopular Taoiseach in the history of the State. A considerable amount of commentary focuses on the mind and associated emotions of the former Taoiseach. Most of all, the emotion associated with Cowen, and his tenure as Taoiseach, was shame. In describing the impact of the bailout on Ireland, The Irish Times described in detail "the shame of it all," at having "obtained our political independence from Britain to be the masters of our own affairs, we have now surrendered our sovereignty to the European Commission, the European Central Bank, and the International Monetary Fund," 6 while scholars Marcus Free and Clare Scully have detailed how broadcast and print media in the post-Celtic Tiger period was characterised by the same pervasive sense of shame and guilt that was closely associated with Cowen, demonstrating how the then-Taoiseach became closely linked with a singularly unpleasant emotion. 7 Cowen's body, and its depiction in media, forms clear parallels with his own unpopularity and association with the financial crisis. During Cowen's tenure, Ireland's financial woes were explained as the result of widespread excess and overconsumption by the Irish people: then-Minister for Finance Brian Lenihan famously attributed the financial collapse to the fact that "we all partied" 8 while RTÉ documentary How We Blew The Boom alleged that "we all went mad spending," 9 with the assumption that this overconsumption would be followed by the associated guilt and shame. At this time then, Ireland's corpulent Taoiseach, became closely associated with overconsumption himself. Cowen was also plagued by a perceived lack of charisma. The then-Taoiseach did not exactly inspire confidence in his followers, being the subject not only of plummeting poll numbers, but repeated threats to his political survival in the form of internal party rebellions, successive no confidence votes, botched cabinet reshuffles and the almost total collapse of the then-coalition government. 10 Political cartoons (and two infamous oil portraits) from this period code Cowen as an overconsumer transgressing the codes governing the ideal consumer body. Cowen is depicted as heavyset and slovenly: rolls of fat are exaggerated, evoking clear associations with the idea of financial "fat-cats" while cigarette butts burst from pockets and hang from his lips, bringing to mind unhealthy forms of overconsumption. Famously, Cowen appeared on national radio in September of 2010, while apparently inebriated, leading to then-opposition deputy Simon Coveney branding him as "somewhere between drunk and hungover" -experiencing either the high of over-consumption, or the painful after affects, reflecting the current status of the nation he led.
After Cowen's ignominious departure from politics, 11 he was replaced as Taoiseach by Enda Kenny. If Cowen's body was characterised as embodying the excessive consumption that so shamed Ireland in the period directly after the Celtic Tiger, Kenny embodied the "[discursive] rationalisation through corporeal metaphors, typically the trimming of needless 'fat' in pursuit of 'leaner' government and a 'competitive' economy" 12 that was associated with Kenny and his implementation of harsh austerity measures. If the slim bodies of online influencers can sell you a plethora of diet and fitness products, then the lean, fit body of Ireland's Taoiseach could sell you on his platform of harsh austerity measures. Kenny's wearing of an omnipresent necktie and his "fine head of hair" (for a man of his age, as journalist Gavan Reilly reminds us repeatedly in his profile of "the calm operator of Castlebar" 13 ) coded him as a classical statesman: no longer would Ireland be a fat man in a sea of slim national leaders. Throughout his time in office, Kenny placed an emphasis on the "trimming of fat" and an associated increase in "agility," rolling out a range of austerity measures. These measures included the closure of Garda Stations and post offices, and were accompanied by Kenny's participation in charity cycles and other fitness events. A tendency to eschew expensive transport such as a chauffeured State car, in favour of brisk walks, frequently with a pack of journalists struggling to keep up, was often commented upon in coverage of the Taoiseach. In caricature, the differences between Cowen and Kenny were further heightened; Cowen's image is scatological and corpulent, emphasising consumption with the associated "waste" and its obvious "offloading" onto Cowen's voter base ( Figure 1). Kenny's image, however, exaggerates more flattering aspects of his image, such as his oftmentioned "fine head of hair." Although surrounded by artefacts referring to some political scandals (such as the Garda Whistleblower affair) 14 and certain embarrassing gaffes (A portrait captures Kenny's infamous anecdote about meeting "a man with two pints in his hand"), the tone here is far kinder to Kenny, and the then-Taoiseach's body is lean, well dressed, and topped by the colours of his home county of Mayo ( Figure 2). There is a world of difference then, between Kenny, the calm operator of Castlebar, and Cowen, often derisively referred to as "BIFFO," or Big Ignorant Fucker From Offaly, highlighting that just as Kenny was able to incorporate his rural identity into his image as a strength, letting him appear in touch with his rural roots even while politicking in the city, Cowen was less fortunate. Instead, Cowen was seen to embody the "backwardness, ignorance, and limitation" 15 of his rural home. Just from this cursory comparison then, it becomes immediately obvious that Cowen's body was popularly characterised as the embodiment of the nation he led, with scrutiny focused on the manner in which his body manifested evidence of overconsumption and excess. In contrast, Kenny's body during his tenure as Taoiseach embodied the lean, "trimmed down," more "agile" government he promoted, with his slim body seen as better reflecting the austerity measures he imposed to reduce the overconsumption and excess popularly held to have brought on lead to the collapse of the Celtic Tiger economy.
Enda Kenny's successor as Taoiseach and Leader of Fine Gael, Leo Varadkar, has himself attempted to cultivate a popular public image which embodies the qualities he posits as ideal in contemporary Ireland. As Diane Negra and Anthony McIntyre have described, one of Varadkar's defining characteristics is his self-promotion "as an exemplary and fit citizen" 16 Just as Kenny promoted his leanness and agility through participation in length charity cycles, Varadkar attempts to demonstrate his fitness repeatedly, having "been vocal about his active lifestyle, avoiding meat and even bringing Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau on a [jog] through the Phoenix Park during Trudeau's 2017 Dublin visit" and participating in "the Dublin City Triathlon, which included a gruelling 750 m swim in the River Liffey, a 20 km cycle around the Phoenix Park and then a 5 km run to the finish line" 17 in a seeming attempt to one-up his predecessor as Taoiseach. This, as well as the well-publicised adherence to a "rigid fitness regime" 18 establishes the lengths to which Varadkar is prepared to go to position himself as someone who is ready to invest personal labour to become the ideal citizen, who is "indefatigable, restless, and flexible." 19 Varadkar's dedication to this lifestyle is obvious from his appearance on health focused reality series Operation Transformation, where contestants' metabolic age is calculated to give a purportedly more accurate picture of their overall health and fitness. As Negra and McIntyre have described, upon discovering on camera that while he was aged 40, his metabolic age was 53, Varadkar was "evidently dismayed, and perhaps a little outraged" at this example of "biomorality gone wrong" in a "refutation of neoliberal healthism," demonstrating how core to Varadkar's presented image and self of sense fitness is. 20 Such is Leo Varadkar's devotion to attempting to position himself as the ideal neoliberal citizen that he engages in the consummately neoliberal practice of "meal prep," and shares the results on his Instagram account, allowing the public further glimpses into his private life. Meal prep combines several factors of neoliberal ideology, most prominently healthism, "a form of medicalisation that places the onus of 'good health' on the individual." 21 Meal prep embodies this notion of healthism, through its promotion of the investment of labour in the preparation of foods, so that one can cut down on the kinds of excessive consumption associated with less rigorously-planned diets, thus bettering one's health: the onus for guarding one's health is entirely on the individual.
The fact that Varadkar chose to share the (seemingly carefully curated) contents of his home refrigerator in a widely-shared image posted to his personal Instagram account, 22 where the contents seem limited to prepared, organised meals and a single piece of Kylemore Abbey Cheese, has certain striking similarities to the practice on MTV's Cribs wherein celebrities' tours of their kitchens in particular often focused on their refrigerators. However, in the case of Cribs, the kitchen was often just a status symbol, rarely if ever actually used for its intended purpose, as "showing the kitchen and its state of near complete disuse is an ultimate display of status." 23 Given the above evidence that Leo Varadkar seeks to code himself not as a wealthy member of the elite, but as one of the "people who get up early in the morning" 24 he claims to represent, it is perhaps unsurprising that Varadkar would attempt to avoid any characterisations of his kitchen that may associate him with excessive wealth. As such, the contents of his refrigerator give a very different image than those of the celebrities on Cribs. The Tánaiste's fridge is in fact filled with food, almost none of it pre-prepared, showing that he does in fact use his kitchen for cooking. Interestingly, Varadkar draws particular attention to the presence of Kylemore Cheese, apparently purchased during Fine Gael's recent agriculture and rural development conference. In doing so, Varadkar seems to attempt to conjure up the same concept of a genuine bond to rural Ireland as Enda Kenny does in Iarnród Enda -Varadkar's platforming of the cheese, apparently handmade by a small business in rural Galway, is strikingly similar to Kenny's championing of small industry in Iarnród Enda, as we will see. The Kylemore Cheese website is replete with the kind of neoliberal language Varadkar constantly employs, from wellness-tinged descriptions of "monastic" life at the farm, to agricultural "diversification" which aids in "adding value" to a farming industry that would apparently benefit from "creating sustainability through alternative enterprise." 25 Aside from the cheese, the rest of the contents of the refrigerator are also striking: neatly packaged lunches are stacked in orderly rows. As the Tánaiste's own caption describes, this is a perfect example of the growing trend of "meal-prep," wherein rather than cooking fresh meals each day, meals are prepared in bulk at the beginning of the week. Proponents of meal prep insist it provides benefits both financial and physical; less time is spent preparing meals, freeing up time during the working week. Given the language used by proponents of meal prep such as "fitness fanatics, the financially thrifty, the environmentally minded, [and] the nutritionally conscious," the links to neoliberal ideology become clear. 26 In one article discussing the rise of the meal-prep phenomenon, there is a recurring reference to consummately neoliberal language, like that used by Varadkar himself. Personal trainer Charlie King praises the benefits of meal prep as a crucial tool for those who want to be "goal specific" in their drive to acquire the ideal body. Cultivating appropriate "nutritional knowledge" has allowed King to become more relaxed in his approach to meal prep, but he exhorts the values of "discipline" one can learn by utilising meal prep in the process of "fuelling [the] body." 27 The boundaries between relaxation and work, already beginning to blur in a neoliberal era of "side hustles" and "passion projects" fade further: for "most meal preppers, work begins at the weekend," erasing the traditional boundaries of the working week. 28 Meal preppers are described as engaging in an "efficient and productive" 29 activity, where terminology previously reserved for work begins to describe even the most mundane and essential processes of nourishing the body with food.
The meal-prepping by Varadkar then, is hardly surprising, given his history of embracing neoliberal healthism. Indeed, coverage of Varadkar's fridge refers in detail to his own comments on his body and associated "lifestyle habits." In describing how he used to be, in his own words "very overweight" 30 Varadkar seems torn between two positions. He wishes to establish himself as a responsible Irish neoliberal citizen who conscientiously guards his health, but not so much as to be out of touch with "normal people." As such, Varadkar does boast he attends the gym "four times a week," but is quick to stress that this "isn't huge in the greater scheme of things," instead highlighting the "flexibility" of his fitness routine. 31 "flexibility" is perhaps the most important term here, as it is a key part of "late capitalist body talk" 32 where close bonds are drawn between the function of the economy, and the functioning of the ideal agile body. Varadkar stresses the benefits of a health "routine," and the weekly preparation of meals, freeing up time during the week, would seem to fit neatly into such a routine. Again, the lines between work and leisure blur, with the rigid structure of Varadkar's fitness routine seeming more like the former, and much less like the latter.
This interrogation and analysis of neoliberal meal-prep culture may seem wholly unrelated to later analysis of Iarnród Enda, but the establishment of Varadkar's drive to embody the ideals of neoliberalism is crucial in comparing him to Kenny. By comparing Kenny to Varadkar, as well as to Cowen, Kenny's hosting of Iarnród Enda can be seen in a new light. Rather than simply being a post-politics project of a once very active politician who finds retirement uninteresting, Iarnród Enda can be read as putting forward the same neoliberal, individualist ideology Kenny embodied, embraced and promoted while in office.
Returning then to analysis of the current Tánaiste, Varadkar's dedication to this neoliberal lifestyle has left him open to the same kind of lampooning and mockery Cowen suffered as a result of his own alleged overconsumption. Varadkar's personal style, as identified from photographs posted on his personal social media accounts has been defined as a "grim aesthetic" that journalist Emer McLysaght calls a form of "domestic austerity." 33 From this vantage point, Varadkar's dedication to a certain personal form of austerity, of not wanting to be seen to be living in excess as one of the "fat cats" that was supposedly purged by the post-2008 Fine Gael government of which Varadkar was part, has gone too far.
Much of this characterisation of Varadkar's lifestyle as being excessively austere focuses on the Taoiseach's posting of photographs of supposed "luxury" food items like cake and pancakes, most prominently a photo of Varadkar and his partner's joint birthday cake, as it appeared on his personal Instagram account in January of 2020. The photo is a selfie, taken by the Taoiseach's partner, which depicts Varadkar slicing into a small, Battenbergstyle birthday cake, while a variety of objects, such as backpacks, notes and tablets can be seen in the background. 34 Even more positive accounts of Varadkar's extremely low-key birthday celebrations note the absence of "any celebratory wine or champagne." 35 Harsher reception characterises Varadkar's ascetic lifestyle as part of the perception that the former Taoiseach is out of touch, and that he "will never be a man of the people" 36 with this characterisation also noting the absence of signs of luxury, saying "he's not showing off luxury environs and expensive tastes, rubbing our faces in it, lighting cigars with fifty-euro notes" but that Varadkar "seems determined to showcase a life that would have even the most staunch anti-Fine Gaeler saying, 'Would you not get something with a bit of cream on it at least, Leo? Even a Black Forest gateau?'" 37 This mockery of Varadkar's food choices demonstrates the difficulty Varadkar seems to encounter in his attempts to portray himself as both a normal person and the ideal neoliberal citizen: his attempts often feel laboured and awkward, too often veering into accidentally-comedic austerity. Varadkar seemingly performs a balancing act, between austerity on one hand, and over-consumption on the other. His attempts to counterbalance consumption with responsibility is perhaps best demonstrated by a 2018 tweet. In the image uploaded alongside this tweet, a single, almost transparent pancake lies on a plate, surrounded by a variety of spreads and toppings, including sliced fruit, lemon and sugar, and jar of chocolate spread. The associated text explains that this is the Taoiseach's "last treat" before the beginning of the Lenten fast. 38 Even in the context of Shrove Tuesday, a time of traditional luxury and indulgence, Varadkar carefully counterbalances the supposed indulgence of "unhealthy" foods like the pancakes, chocolate spread, and sugar visible with the presence of fruit, and the reference to the upcoming fast of Lent, with the then-Taoiseach proclaiming that he would be "uber-healthy" for the next 40 days in what almost appears as an act of self-flagellation for a perceived indulgence. Interesting also is the fact that this tweet was widely mocked: in the article mentioned earlier, McLysaght described this pancake-photo as "unironically austere." This, accompanied by descriptions of the Taoiseach's home as having "big Celtic Tiger vibes," haunted by the spirit of the economic era's excessive consumption, positions Varadkar's "unironically austere" image as in opposition to over-consumption and excess. The Fine Gael leader's balancing act, careful to characterise his early rising and exercise as typical and ordinary, rather than project any sense of superiority, indicates a seeming cautiousness on the part of Varadkar. Furthermore, this approach suggests an awareness that since the 2008 financial crisis, and particularly since the rise of populist leaders and movements post 2016, the cosmopolitanism with which Varadkar could associated, has been increasingly rejected by the electorate, culminating in a collapse of cosmopolitan neoliberalism's "power to define the political mainstream." 39 In the wake of this powershift, Varadkar has seemingly tacked away from certain characteristics of neoliberal cosmopolitanism, most notably "the uneasy consensus in favour of open borders" 40 with Varadkar recently calling for "robust border controls" and prompter removal of illegal migrants. 41 The collapse of confidence in cosmopolitanism has also led to some careful management of Varadkar's personal image -after accusations that his alleged veganism "did not show the 'type of leadership you would expect from [the] Taoiseach'," Varadkar was forced to reassure the Dáil that he remained an omnivore. 42 This mockery of Varadkar, while acknowledging his total lack of indulgence in luxury or excessive consumption, captures the contradictions and the careful balancing acts that neoliberal austerity asks its citizens to perform. In the case of Varadkar's borderline healthparanoia, it is of particular interest from an Irish point of view, as in a country with a fundamentally over-taxed and under resourced national health system, particular emphasis must be placed on the demands Ireland makes of its citizens to conscientiously guard their health.
The paradox of austerity is that it "it insists that its consumer-citizens continue to perform their consumptive duties in order to aid economic recovery, at home and internationally, but that they do so with austere self-restraint." 43 We can consider the three Taoisigh under study in this article along a consumption-spectrum, give this "insistence on consumption" in light of this paradox. Brian Cowen, as demonstrated earlier, falls firmly on the "consumption" end. Few at the time of his tenure would accuse him of not having performed his consumptive duty, but he was perceived as having failed in the imposition of the "austere self-restraint" and was thus heavily criticised and caricatured as lacking this crucial self-restraint. Varadkar falls on the other end of the spectrum: perceived as possessing too much of the "austere self-restraint," he fails in his consumptive duties and is mocked for doing so. This is most evident from McLysaght's article, as she lists numerous consumer products that Varadkar could purchase, from Black Forest gateau and Colin the Caterpillar cakes to the more restrained Tesco traybakes and French Fancies, with the assumption being that by purchasing these products, Varadkar could better fulfil his consumptive duties as the idealised neoliberal citizen.
Just as Cowen and Varadkar occupy two ends of the neoliberal spectrum, excessive consumption and over-austerity respectively, the man who occupied the office of Taoiseach between them embodies the centre ground of austerity. Not prone to the over-consumption of Cowen, nor the "unironic austerity" of Varadkar, Kenny managed to tread the narrow middle ground. During his tenure as Taoiseach, Kenny was wellknown for deploying anecdotes about individuals who he characterised as the embodiment of either the supposed economic recovery he presided over, or of the excessive consumption he saw as limiting the recovery. The former is perhaps best demonstrated by Kenny's description of meeting "a man on the site," a construction worker who, pleased with Kenny's supposed revitalising of the construction sector, said to the then-Taoiseach "It's great to hear the sound of buckets rattling round this site again," 44 while the latter is clearly demonstrated by what was called "The curious case of Enda Kenny and the man with two pints in his hand." 45 Responding to Dáil accusations that the imposition of water charges was a financial burden for Irish citizens, the Taoiseach described meeting a man in a bar who "who stopped me with the two pints in his hand last week shouting about the cost of water that he could not pay" with the point being that "what he was holding in his hands would pay for water for him -because I know him -for nearly ten weeks." 46 While much of the popular reaction to this anecdote focused on the man's ability to hold two pints in one hand, the most interesting aspect here for my purposes is that Kenny positions himself as policing consumption. While he was also prone to encouraging some forms of consumption, here we see Kenny calling out a failure of "austere self-restraint," arguing that the ideal neoliberal citizen would reign in overconsumption to better pay the bills necessitated by national austerity measures. From this comparison then, between Cowen, Kenny, and Varadkar, we can see how despite Varadkar's fixation on exercise and fitness, it is Kenny who emerges as the ideal neoliberal citizen, maintaining a similar association with fitness and health as his successor, without the "unironic austerity" implied by Varadkar's grim asceticism. Kenny is aided here also by his more advanced age, signalled through his popular culture associations and references: where Kenny attends the concerts of Springsteen, Varadkar prefers Kylie Minogue. Kenny's age then, means he is more naturally positioned to connect to the past. This comparison between Kenny and Varadkar, with a particular focus on fitness and the body is a key topic for study of Iarnród Enda, which presents exercise taken as an act not only of bodily maintenance but of rural reconnection, endowed by Kenny with an aura of authenticity. Importantly, Kenny seems at ease in the rural setting, smoothly cycling alongside the railways, seeming very much at home in his presentation of the idyllic rural landscape. Varadkar's efforts towards the same physical navigation of his native home of Dublin feel markedly more laboured -an attempt to jog along the quays was interrupted by heckling from passing motorists, while a trip to Phoenix Park to record a COVID-19 safety video was marred by a passer-by throwing a smoothie over the then-Taoiseach.

Dented and damaged -Enda Kenny's public post-resignation image
Despite this status as an ideal citizen of, and policer of, neoliberal attitudes, Kenny's image by the time of his appearance on Iarnród Enda had acquired a small number of dents and scratches, blemishes on his otherwise spotless record. The most prominent of these blemishes include the questioning of Kenny's rural authenticity, his association with the harsh austerity measures described by some as "an attack on rural Ireland" and the subsequent cost of living crisis, as well as a strong association with the worst forms of rapacious corporatism that were more strongly associated with his successor Leo Varadkar.
Kenny has a long history of associations with rural Ireland -he is himself from a rural background in County Mayo, and analysis of his political style often noted a certain earthy rural authenticity as a key part of his personal political branding. Conceptualisations of rural Ireland as serene and calming bled over into his reputation as the "calm operator of Castlebar," as political columnists such as Gavan Reilly describe him as an "earthy man of the West." 47 This image was not a mere veneer, however, and formed a key part of his political strategy, as Kenny, apparently a master of the "everyman handshake" and accompanying "hail-fellow-well-met" routine, often utilised this rural charm to plámás, or flatter, other political figures to ensure their support: only for the funding he promised them and their constituencies to never arrive.
This characterisation of Kenny as a charming, if slightly insincere "man of the West," key to his political image, was severely damaged by an association with a form of rapacious corporatism that is perhaps more often associated with Dublin-based political figures like Varadkar. After resigning as Taoiseach, Kenny joined a variety of corporate boards, including private equity firm VentureWave Capital and lobbying agency Heneghan Strategic Communications. This, along with the revelation that, during his tenure as Taoiseach and while Ireland held the presidency of the European Union, Kenny had offered to lobby the EU on behalf of Facebook, exposed a side of Kenny that he may have preferred stayed hidden. It also appears that Kenny devoted much more of his time to these corporate efforts than to his political career. After resigning as Taoiseach, but while still a serving TD, Kenny claimed €47,000 in allowances, along with his full TDs salary and amassed thousands of euros more on the private speaking circuit, addressing audiences at events such as financial institution JP Morgan's "Best of British" event, which perhaps further tarnished his image as the consummate Irishman. 48 These events give rise to a perception that Kenny's image, once pristine and rural, had been dirtied by the rough-and-tumble of politics in the capital.
Further dents in Kenny's image were sustained as a result of the housing crisis. While only reaching its peak in the time after Kenny left office in 2017, this issue has been closely linked to his party's policy, with the seeds of the crisis sown in the supposed economic recovery over which Kenny presided. As a result, his public image is caught between a desire to point to Ireland's economic recovery as a personal success, and a close association with austerity measures that had particularly devastating effects for rural communities. While serving as Taoiseach, Kenny and Fine Gael repeatedly trumpeted Ireland's supposed economic recovery after the devastation of the Celtic Tiger as a sign of the success of their policy. The recovery was effectively used as a political cudgel to beat down criticism of Kenny, whether it related to economic matters or not. When responding to Dáil questions around his handling of the Garda Whistleblower scandal, Kenny repeatedly attempted to steer the conversation back to the economy, responding to seemingly unrelated questions with statistics and figures which supposedly substantiated Ireland's economic revival. Kenny was so closely tied to the economic recovery, in fact, that Fine Gael's party poster in the 2016 election simply featured a large portrait of Kenny above the slogan "Let's keep the recovery going." As the adverse effects of Ireland's post-recession economy became clearer, with a rapidly intensifying housing crisis increasingly dominating the political landscape in Ireland in recent years, this not only damaged the fortunes of Kenny's party and successors as Taoiseach, but left the former Taoiseach in somewhat of an awkward position. Unable to point to the economic recovery as his main achievement, without simultaneously drawing attention to his own responsibility for the housing crisis, Kenny found himself in much the same difficult situation as rural Irelandunable to point to the supposedly "better" past without exposing the problems of the present.
Finally, the harsh austerity measures Kenny imposed during his tenure as Taoiseach, had particularly devastating effects upon rural Ireland. Given Kenny's strong links to the rural West as a TD for Mayo, and his maintaining of such bonds through activities like his strong support of his home county's GAA team, the effects of Kenny's austerity measures upon rural Ireland are of particular relevance, as they have had a devastating effect on the very place to which Kenny maintains strong ties. This adds further complexity to Kenny's relationship with his rural home, as the very place he champions is disproportionately adversely impacted by the policies he implemented while in office.
During Kenny's term in office, his government oversaw the closure of 139 Garda stations 49 and 159 post offices, 50 primarily in rural areas: despite the closure of post offices in 25 of the Republic's 26 counties, Dublin was the sole county of exception. The large of number closures was described as a "direct attack on rural Ireland" and as "[sending] a message that the State no longer sees rural Ireland as a viable place to live." 51 This closure of state-funded services was accompanied after Kenny's resignation by branch closures of many of Ireland's major banks, again in predominantly rural areas. In this way, rural Ireland been disconnected from much of the national infrastructure, through both the closure of banks, post offices and Garda stations, and through their encirclement and bypass by major road networks which connect major cities at the cost of smaller towns.
Not only was rural Ireland cut off from existing infrastructure such as post offices, but it appears to have been excluded from the future high-tech economy Kenny himself championed while in office. During his time as Taoiseach, Fine Gael was described as embracing "Big Tech," with a huge push made for the construction of data centres in Ireland, on the premise that this would make Ireland a major player in the high-tech, remote working economy of the future fuelled by date centres and cloud computing. Fine Gael's own policy document on the subject described how "the Government endorses, supports and promotes the appropriate and timely delivery of data centres," and journalist Úna Mulally describes a close link between the development of data centres and Kenny's then-slogan of "Get Ireland Working" 52 establishing a clear connection between Kenny's economic policy and the promotion of data centres.
Despite such apparent enthusiasm from Fine Gael for the technology sector, rural Ireland has again been neglected, with the majority of rural areas still lacking sufficient broadband connections to participate in the economic model proposed and promoted by Kenny, despite the location of many data centres in rural Ireland. These centres seem to provide little tangible benefit to these areas, as the lack of rural broadband appears to exclude rural residents from accessing this data, which was supposed to transform the economy of these areas.
Given the history of austerity's impact upon rural Ireland then, particularly in regard to infrastructure like roads and post offices, it is perhaps surprising that Kenny would choose to begin his rehabilitation efforts with Iarnród Enda, a series focused upon derelict rural infrastructure in the form of railways, although the series representational manoeuvring goes some way towards distracting from the dereliction of the railways by romanticising it, with images of the derelict railways carefully shot to include green fields, rugged hills and cliffsides, alongside Kenny's upbeat narration and the sentimental soundtrack.
To further deflect accusations of responsibility for the state of the nation's infrastructure however, Kenny carefully maintains a certain distance from it, and rather than being parasitic, Kenny's relationship with rural Ireland is instead symbiotic. Kenny works to reestablish rural Ireland's credentials as a place of serene restoration for those damaged or exhausted by life in the cities. In return, an association with rural Ireland rehabilitates Enda Kenny, letting him reassert himself as an earthy man of the West rather than the corporate, politicking figure he may have been perceived as, evidenced by a softening of his visual image. This softening is indicated by the absence of the previously omnipresent necktie, and the growing out of Kenny's previously trim hair. In changing his literal image in this fashion, Kenny echoes the same visual transformation undergone by his British counterpart, Michael Portillo, of Great British Railway Journeys. Portillo, once the same sort of prim, professional figure in politics Kenny was as Taoiseach, cultivates a gentler image, as "the tie of his political career has been long discarded and he now, invariably, wears a jacket without a tie." 53 The shedding of the necktie seems to be a key symbol in these political figures transformation, signalling a fundamental change in their image. 54 Additionally, Kenny is able to put forth what almost seems like a neoliberal manifesto. In this, he reimagines rural Ireland, not as a place stricken with underfunded and neglected infrastructure, but as an exciting place of endless entrepreneurial possibility, forming parallels with recent State advertising campaigns which advocate for relocation to the West.

Why rural Ireland? The country as a place of rehabilitation
Rural Ireland itself has a long, well-established history as a place of restoration and rejuvenation for those exhausted or damaged by life elsewhere. Most obviously, it frequently acts for a space of rehabilitation for what Sinéad Moynihan has termed "returned Yanks," 55 Americans who find life in the United States emotionally unfulfilling and as such retreat to the comfort of rural Ireland. Upon arrival, the protagonists of predominantly American films such as The Quiet Man (1952), Yesterday's Children (2000), Leap Year (2010), and most recently Wild Mountain Thyme (2021), quickly find comfort in the "evidence of antiquity" 56 and restorative traditions. Wild Mountain Thyme, and director John Patrick Shanley's defence of the film in the face of strong criticism and ridicule from Irish audiences, indicates a degree of continuing cultural purchase of this type of film with predominantly American audiences. However, the film's financial and critical failure hint that such films are struggling to connect with their core market of self-identifying Irish Americans, although perhaps not to the same degree as with Irish audiences.
However, since the beginning of the Celtic Tiger in the early 1990s, an opposing trend has emerged in predominantly Irish screen depictions of a return to the rural home which calls into question the restorative tranquillity and traditionalism of the pastoral. Films such as Calvary (2014) Black ' 47 (2018) and Arracht (2020) contest characterisations of rural Ireland as a comforting home to which one can easily return, safe in the knowledge that the home place will remain essentially unchanged. Instead, the home places here are frequently depicted as transformed or distorted, becoming sites of alienation and distress rather than rejuvenation and restoration.
These texts respond directly to the notion, espoused by figures such as former Taoiseach Seán LeMass, that a rising economic tide "lifts all boats," a suggestion that the growth and the development of the Irish economy was for the benefit of all. As Barry Monahan has usefully described, a growing number of Celtic Tiger films "rejected and reconfigured" this notion "as a thwarted and dislocated pathology of alienation and an inability to connect with other individuals." 57 There is a large amount of overlap between Moynihan's model of the "returned Yank" and Monahan's of a "pathology of alienation." Jim Sheridan's The Field (1990) features one such returned Yank, Peter (Tom Berenger) murdered shortly after an attempt to return home, while more recently, Calvary (2014) depicts an elderly American writer literally living almost as a hermit on a small island off the coast of Sligo, deliberately refusing to connect with others, while other screen texts such as Garage (2007), One Hundred Mornings (2009), Black '47 (2018) and Dublin Murders (2019) depict rural Ireland as a Gothic redoubt of crime, corruption and personal isolation accompanied by a decline or collapse in community mutuality, and the transformation of the rural home into an empty shell akin to the "ghost estates" which dot the Irish landscape after the Celtic Tiger. Garage in particular speaks to anxieties surrounding infrastructure, as the construction of a motorway bypass leaves the town in which the film is set utterly isolated: rural community spaces such as the local pub are reduced to nothing. The protagonists of these texts find in rural Ireland a place of alienation, the land dotted with houses which never became homes, leaving them unable to return.
In Iarnród Enda then, Kenny works to stabilise depictions of rural Ireland, pushing back against characterisations of the pastoral as gothic spaces of community collapse. The former Taoiseach instead codes them as places of innovation and enterprise, as we will see.
This stabilisation of the rural sphere is of particular importance given the timing of the series' release. Broadcast in April of 2021 during the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, Iarnród Enda functions almost in parallel with the government's promotion of domestic "staycations" in light of the dangers of international travel during the pandemic, emphasising "hidden histories" that may go unnoticed in Ireland, and playing on the same "evidence of antiquity" that Moynihan argues is key to the therapeutic nature of rural Ireland for the returning Yank. The combination of Kenny's exploration of continuing tradition, alongside the evidence of the ongoing pandemic, leads to striking images throughout the series, such as one moment where the former Taoiseach is seen listening quietly to a pair of traditional Irish pipers, who perform before a dramatic backdrop of the rugged rural landscape, juxtaposed against a message from RTÉ urging viewers to "Stay Local" amidst the continuing waves of Covid-19.
The sense one gets from a viewing of Iarnród Enda then, is that the traditional dichotomy of the city and the country has been restored. The country is once again associated with "the idea of a natural way of life: of peace, innocence and simple virtue, 58 of pipers playing gentle music before a dramatic and bucolic landscape. One feels that the rough and tumble of politics has been left behind in the city, which hardly features: of the many railways and locations depicted in the series, Dublin is almost never seen.
Kenny's rehabilitation of the countryside, coding it as a place of bucolic restoration, has particular resonance in the Irish context. Romantic conceptualisations of the rural abound throughout Irish history, the most prominent of which is Éamon DeValera's vision of "The Ireland That We Dreamed Of," wherein the then-Taoiseach delineates his ideal Ireland, a vision which is strikingly rural. The ideal Ireland for DeValera is one in which the "countryside would be bright with cosy homesteads" and "whose fields and villages would be joyous with the sounds of industry." 59 This image of Ireland is one with clear influence on Iarnród Enda, as Kenny's presentation of rural Ireland is very much in line with DeValera's vision. The series quickly moves beyond any urban or semi-urban centres which feature, instead moving outward to capture the "cosy homesteads," as Kenny frequently visits local people in their homes. The countryside of Iarnród Enda is indeed one that is "joyous with the sounds of industry," as the series focuses on Kenny's interviews and dialogues with a number of small business owners, from local historians providing tours and information to tourists, or those who have established cafés and other railway-themed businesses.
Kenny's attempt at characterising of rural Ireland as a restorative home to which one can return or escape to is certainly not an entirely novel gambit. Anthony P. McIntyre has written on the role of property television in Ireland, covering the series Cheap Irish Homes. In describing the role of the series in effectively advertising the possibility of rural homeownership to those priced out of the urban centres, McIntyre describes how "Terms such as 'traditional' and 'forever home,' combined with repeated images of the Irish landscape suggest permanence, providing affective antidote to the widespread precarity characterizing the relation to property and home in contemporary Ireland." 60 Just as "repeated images of the Irish landscape" alongside verbal emphasis on the endurance and stability of the rural home work to stabilise increasingly precarious property relations in Ireland, the symbiosis at work in Iarnród Enda does much the same. As described earlier, Kenny stresses, repeatedly, the degree to which history and the past are evident, accompanied by sweeping shots of the obvious markers of Irish history; castles, forts and historic buildings abound, even if the railways the series is ostensibly focusing on are hidden by overgrowth or removed entirely. Kenny repeatedly stresses the historic nature of what is, in fact, relatively recent history, with most of the greenways along which he cycles only recently developed. The vision of Ireland presented in the series then, is comprehensively a sentimental one.
Kenny is aided in his efforts to imbue these images with a sense of permanence and continuing tradition, by his fluency in the Irish language. By narrating the series entirely in Irish, Kenny appeals to the good graces of the Irish speaking community. This community, politically mostly ignored and often popularly maligned as "elitist," borrows some of Kenny's own rural authenticity and connection to the land, while simultaneously lending his Irishness extra credibility, re-establishing Irish as the language of the rural sphere.
Kenny's decision to rehabilitate his and rural Ireland's respective reputations via a series with a focus on derelict infrastructure may initially seem counterintuitive -why, given the above-established deleterious impact of neglected infrastructure upon rural Ireland, and his close association with the policies which exaggerated and continued this neglect, would Kenny choose to present a series with a focus on such infrastructure? The answer becomes clear from the approach Kenny takes to presenting such infrastructure. Kenny spends much of his time attempting to resurrect the derelict infrastructure of Ireland as emblematic of contemporary neoliberal economics. To Kenny, the derelict railways are not the symbol of a neglected rural infrastructure. Instead, they are evidence of a new, entrepreneurial Irish economy. In one segment, Kenny listens intently while a local businessman explains how he has created a tourist attraction out of the area, detailing to the former Taoiseach how his small section of a restored railway brings in Irish holidaymakers on "staycations." In a particularly striking moment later in the series, Kenny visits one local man who has purchased and restored a historic locomotive and several kilometres of track, entirely by himself. Riding on this restored section of railway in the man's locomotive, Kenny stresses the man's devotion to restoration of his beloved railways, and seems to genuinely enjoy his short journey by rail. Particularly striking is the language used by Kenny to narrate this section of the programme. The restoration of "an old train of the West Clare railway" is described as "an amazing spectacle, resurrected from the dead." The efforts of railway enthusiast Jackie Whelan are "a labour of love injecting life and beauty again, where once was rust and wreckage." This flowery language seems to form a direct parallel with the competing descriptions of rural Ireland described earlier -between the "life and beauty" of bucolic restoration on one hand, and the "rust and wreckage" of Gothic, alienating destruction on the other. The fact that the railway has passed from State ownership to a private owner, the very fact that this once-vital piece of national infrastructure requires saving in the first place, is not, according to Kenny, the regrettable outcome of neglect. It is instead the desirable result of Jackie Whelan's "vision, passion and unbridled enthusiasm." The completion of the transition between rural Ireland as a place supported by State-sponsored infrastructure, and the new vision of it, promoted by the State in recent campaigns, as a place driven by the individual, where "creative Energy sparks entrepreneurial spirit," 61 is complete, marked by Kenny's narration: once State property, the "railway of Parnell and Percy French," the West Clare railway is instead now "Jackie Whelan's railway." 62

Conclusion
In Iarnród Enda then, Kenny achieves this: he not only disassociates himself from historic neglect of rural infrastructure, but in fact suggests a resolution to it in personal agency. It is not the State's responsibility to maintain local infrastructure, this segment suggests. The individual is just as capable of doing so, and with economic benefits to boot. In this way, Kenny reconfigures rural Ireland as a space of entrepreneurial possibilities and a place where the personal agency of the individual can function as a replacement for state investment or intervention.
What I have described here then, is the presence of an almost symbiotic relationship between Enda Kenny and the rural Irish sphere to which he maintains close ties. While it is unlikely to reach the profile and ubiquity of its British counterpart Great British Railway Journeys, Iarnród Enda serves as an effective vessel, through which Enda Kenny can harvest some lucrative sociopolitical capital: by reasserting himself as an "earthy man of the West," he can free himself of his damaged public image, worn with dents and scratches from various political and personal controversies. The absence of the previously omnipresent necktie and a fastidiously well-groomed appearance ( Figure 3) and the cultivation of a shaggier, more relaxed aesthetic epitomises this, as a woolly mop of hair replaces what was once a tightly managed hairdo, and the dark suit synonymous with Kenny is replaced by a flannel shirt and a more casual jacket, as he stands alongside his bicycle, as is visible in a promotional image forIarnród Enda, transforming Kenny into a less colourful counterpart to Michael Portillo, as described earlier. 63 Rural Ireland, meanwhile, gains a valuable ally in its efforts to advertise itself as a desirable destination for tourists and those pushed out of urban centres by the ongoing cost of living crisis, at a particularly important time, given the emphasis on staycations, and the State's ongoing campaigns advocating relocation to rural Ireland. Kenny can sweep away any anxieties surrounding the dereliction and destruction of rural infrastructure, by suggesting the solution to these issues lies not in State intervention, but in the personal agency and entrepreneurial spirit of the individual. The railways he tracks embody this: derelict infrastructure, abandoned by the state, now resurrected as a site of opportunity by individuals. Ultimately, the railways function as they always have: they facilitate a journey, in this case a literal journey by Kenny, but a metaphorical one also, as he returns home, away from the politics of the capital, to the tranquillity and restorative tradition of the rural. If Enda Kenny, after forty-five years in politics, seven of them as Taoiseach, and with all the baggage such a long career entails, can return home, so can anyone.
Despite the common refrain that it is Varadkar who best epitomises the embracing of neoliberal ideology by the State, under closer analysis it is Kenny who emerges as the prodigal son of neoliberalism. Returning and recovering from the ignominy of political scandal in a fashion denied to Cowen, Kenny reclaims his position as a policer of consumption, managing to tread the tightrope of austereself restraint while his predecessor and successor fall prey to over and under consumption respectively. With his stance as capital's ardent champion confirmed then, Kenny seems the obvious choice to present the series which bears his name, and enjoy the fruits of a symbiotic relationship with rural Ireland, championing individual action as the solution to the systemic issues the area and its inhabitants face.