On October 25, 2025, Ireland witnessed a political spectacle that both captivated and confounded the nation. Catherine Connolly, an independent leftwing TD from Galway and former deputy speaker of the Dáil, secured a landslide victory to become the country’s 10th president. The official declaration at Dublin Castle marked a decisive moment in Irish politics, with Connolly earning a record-breaking 914,143 first preference votes—63% of the total, according to BBC. This result not only stunned the political establishment but also set a new high-water mark in the history of Irish presidential elections.
The campaign itself was far from conventional. As The Conversation noted, the Irish presidency is a curious institution. Despite being the only national office elected directly by the people, the president’s powers are mostly ceremonial, with limited influence over policy. Yet, the election campaign was anything but subdued. It was described as “colourful and eccentric,” with debates veering into policy areas such as housing, disability, military neutrality, and even foxhunting—issues over which the president has no direct authority. Instead of focusing on executive power, the campaign was dominated by ethical scandals and the personal philosophies of the two main candidates: Connolly and Fine Gael’s Heather Humphreys.
Connolly’s victory was not preordained. When she declared her candidacy in July, she was widely seen as an outsider—a one-woman act, little known outside her Galway base. But as The Guardian reported, her campaign gained momentum through an unlikely coalition of smaller opposition parties, including the Social Democrats, People Before Profit, Labour, and, crucially, Sinn Féin. The latter, Ireland’s largest opposition party, chose not to field its own candidate, throwing its considerable organizational muscle behind Connolly. This rare unity on the left, combined with a series of missteps by establishment parties, created the conditions for her triumph.
Fianna Fáil’s candidate Jim Gavin, a political newcomer, withdrew from the race amid a financial scandal, though his name remained on the ballot. Fine Gael’s original choice, Mairead McGuinness, dropped out for health reasons, leaving the party to rally behind Heather Humphreys. Despite her credentials and rural appeal, Humphreys failed to inspire voters, capturing only the Cavan–Monaghan constituency, her home base, and conceding defeat on election night.
Turnout, however, told a more nuanced story. Only 46% of eligible voters cast ballots, and a record 213,738 votes were intentionally spoiled—a sign, according to RTÉ, of widespread frustration with the choices on offer. Some voters lamented the absence of a social conservative candidate, while others felt none of the contenders addressed pressing concerns such as immigration. This undercurrent of disaffection tempered the left’s celebrations and suggested that Connolly’s mandate, while numerically impressive, was not universally embraced.
In her acceptance speech, delivered first in Irish and then in English, Connolly pledged to be “an inclusive president for all.” She promised to listen, reflect, and speak when necessary, emphasizing her commitment to peace, Irish neutrality, and recognition of the existential threat posed by climate change. “I will be a president who listens and reflects and who speaks when it’s necessary,” she said, as quoted by BBC. “I will be a voice for peace, a voice that builds on our policy of neutrality, a voice that articulates the existential threat posed by climate change, and a voice that recognises the tremendous work being done the length and breadth of the country.”
Her victory speech also acknowledged the broader political context. Connolly positioned herself as a candidate for a united Ireland and expressed support for a border poll during her seven-year term—a stance that resonated with Sinn Féin and its supporters. Northern Ireland’s First Minister Michelle O’Neill welcomed the result, calling it “an era of hope,” and praised the collaborative spirit among parties committed to change and progress.
Yet, as The Guardian cautioned, Connolly’s election does not signal a sweeping ideological shift. The Irish presidency, while symbolically potent, remains constitutionally constrained. The role, established by the 1937 constitution, was designed to be largely ceremonial, with the president serving as a figurehead, signing bills into law, referring legislation to the Supreme Court (a power used just 16 times), and representing Ireland abroad. The more substantive powers—acting as an arbiter between the Dáil and Seanad or refusing a taoiseach’s request for a snap election—have rarely, if ever, been exercised in practice.
Recent presidents have sought to expand the office’s influence in the symbolic realm. Mary Robinson transformed the presidency into a more visible platform for advocacy, a tradition continued by Mary McAleese and Michael D Higgins. Higgins, in particular, used his tenure to speak out on issues ranging from housing and inequality to neutrality and genocide, though his activism did not fundamentally alter Ireland’s political trajectory. As his term ended, Higgins called Connolly to congratulate her, offering “the full support of this office as she prepares for her inauguration next month.”
Connolly’s own approach appears consistent with this tradition. She has promised to respect the constitutional limits of her office and focus on issues of equality, neutrality, and social justice—areas where the president’s voice, though lacking executive power, can still shape public discourse. Her supporters speak of a “movement” and hope that her victory will galvanize opposition parties into a viable government-in-waiting. However, as The Guardian observed, two factors caution against over-optimism: the establishment parties’ self-inflicted wounds and the high level of voter disengagement.
Political leaders from across the spectrum acknowledged Connolly’s clear mandate. Taoiseach Micheál Martin described her victory as an “outstanding honour” and a testament to Ireland’s enduring democracy. Tánaiste Simon Harris praised the country’s ability to come together behind the winner after a hard-fought election, even as he noted the significant number of spoiled ballots. Sinn Féin’s Mary Lou McDonald celebrated the result as a “stunning victory” for the combined opposition over “the jaded worn-out politics of Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael,” while emphasizing Connolly’s independence of mind.
Ultimately, Catherine Connolly’s landslide win is both a personal triumph and a reflection of the shifting sands in Irish politics. Her presidency will likely be defined by its symbolism and her ability to articulate the hopes and anxieties of a changing nation. Whether this moment marks the beginning of a new political era or simply a dramatic interlude in Ireland’s complex democracy remains to be seen. For now, Connolly stands poised to bring her distinctive voice to Áras an Uachtaráin, promising to listen, reflect, and speak for all the people of Ireland.
