Ahern's pragmatism may undermine him . . . complex, secretive and a pragmatist

`You just have no idea how secretive the Taoiseach is," a close colleague declared. "I thought I knew him well when seven layers of reserve were exposed. But I found there are about 17 more layers below that. And nobody is allowed to get too close."

This restraint, bordering on introversion, has brought Bertie Ahern a long way. And it is complemented by cold political calculation. There are those who claim that, on occasion, he doesn't even tell himself what he is doing. And they mistakenly dismiss his ultra-caution as a lack of courage.

To say the Taoiseach is complex is an understatement. All his political life, he has grafted, conspired, compromised and done what the situation required. He is the ultimate pragmatist. And yet, he appears warm, open, affable and eminently approachable - the decent man from next door.

His popularity with the general public reflects his standing within Fianna Fail. And he works extraordinarily hard. His life is politics. When his mother died last year, just before the signing of the Belfast Agreement, he left her funeral to travel back to Stormont. And his negotiating success in those circumstances rallied the State to him.

But the persona he fashioned over the years has its negative components. They did not matter too much when he cultivated the Fianna Fail middle ground in the 1980s, holding station as Charlie Haughey's trusted lieutenant while, at the same time, maintaining good relations with party dissidents. He was, as the late Brian Lenihan once categorised himself, the X in Oxo.

The role of mediator and catalyst, which he applied to such brilliant effect as Minister for Labour when negotiating the first clutch of national wage agreements, caused Mr Haughey to describe him as "the most devious, the most cunning, the most ruthless of them all". But time has moved on. And while his public persona required extension and development, it hasn't really happened.

Transition to the position of party leader exploited the old skills of diplomacy, caution, ruthlessness and secrecy. To such an extent that, at different times, he alienated both the Haughey and Reynolds wings of the party. But Mr Ahern prevailed. And he promised a new kind of leadership: one of inclusiveness and harmony within the party, far from the divisiveness and rancour of the Haughey and Reynolds years.

Having come through the smoke-filled back rooms of Fianna Fail, where conspiracy and gossip are the staff of life, Mr Ahern should have known, or guessed, what had been going on. And perhaps he did. But the preservation and development of the party were his job. He couldn't, or wouldn't, take the knife to excise bad wood.

In the declining years of the Boss, connections between big business and party individuals had become a source of scandal. But in the prevailing climate, those not accepting large "political donations" kept their heads down. In the absence of rules or guidelines, and with no sanction for improper, as distinct from proven, criminal behaviour, anything went.

Binding up the party's self-inflicted wounds was Mr Ahern's first, self-imposed task. A role as party healer went down well in the media. But, behind the scenes, he saw off Maire Geoghegan-Quinn as a potential challenger and, later, he undermined and humiliated Albert Reynolds when Mary McAleese became the party's presidential choice.

The Taoiseach was still the X in Oxo, leading from the middle, rather than from the front, allowing events to force the pace rather than take innovative action.

That was particularly obvious where financial scandals were concerned. Two years ago, disclosures that Ben Dunne paid £1 million to Mr Haughey brought a guarded response. People who had done wrong - and he wasn't going to judge his former leader - had no place in Fianna Fail. And to prove it, he was going to introduce a new code of ethics.

Since then, the McCracken and Moriarty tribunals have revealed great underwater caverns in Mr Haughey's financial iceberg; Ray Burke was forced to resign as minister for foreign affairs and the Dail is still awaiting a response from Padraig Flynn about a £50,000 donation from Tom Gilmartin. In addition, the long-promised code of ethics is under assault at the Fianna Fail parliamentary party because of a requirement to provide evidence that members' tax affairs are in order.

As former Cabinet colleagues fell by the wayside, or were cut adrift because of political expediency, Mr Ahern, his actions and his level of knowledge of these affairs came under increasing scrutiny. And, as the pressure grew, partial recall, indecision and incomplete statements became obvious aspects of his leadership.

The political game has changed dramatically in the past year: up to then, threats to his leadership took the form of disclosures about Mr Haughey or about former Cabinet colleagues. Now, Mr Ahern's own name is in the frame as the Opposition parties clamour for detail about what he knew, when he knew it and what he did on a range of issues. The Progressive Democrats are sitting uncomfortably in judgement. And his own back-benchers are increasingly wary.

The Sheedy case was just the latest issue to convulse the party. Before that, there was Padraig Flynn and Tom Gilmartin. And before that there was Ray Burke. In all three cases, incomplete or incorrect versions of events were relayed by the Taoiseach to the public or to the Dail.

If Fianna Fail had an overall majority, there might be fewer problems. In fact, the Flood Tribunal might never have been established - given Fianna Fail's reluctance at the time - and Mr Justice Moriarty might still be working in the Four Courts. But the PDs would not be gainsaid when disclosures in the media stoked public outrage.

For a Taoiseach whose political abilities have contributed more to a Northern settlement than any of his predecessors, it must be galling for Bertie Ahern to be mired in current domestic controversies.

The very characteristics that make him a great negotiator - flexibility, empathy and shrewd positioning - are portrayed as weakness and deception by his political enemies. And, by failing to take firm, principled decisions as party leader, he feeds that idea.

The Taoiseach told the Dail he had initiated seven investigations into Mr Burke's affairs before making him minister; but we now know he was bent on appointing him from the day negotiations opened with the Progressive Democrats. Back then, he knew £30,000 had been paid to Mr Burke by Joseph Murphy Structural Engineers. He also knew that JMSE denied this. Did alarm bells ring over this irregularity? Did he advise Mary Harney? Or did he operate on the usual "need to know" basis? Paranoia over the Progressive Democrats and Ms Harney's possible machinations were behind this week's near bust-up of the Coalition.

A Sunday Tribune report that the Taoiseach had declined to tell the Dail about his involvement in the Sheedy affair, in spite of undertakings given to the Tanaiste, was seen as a PD "leak". It may have caused Mr Ahern publicly to challenge Ms Harney, but its consequences were almost disastrous and required a humiliating climb-down by the Taoiseach.

With trust between the Coalition parties a thing of the past and a good working relationship under threat, investigations by the Moriarty and Flood tribunals are regarded with increasing trepidation. And there is no sign of a change in the Taoiseach's style.

At a time when firm, decisive and up-front leadership is required, Mr Ahern is still playing the part of the X in Oxo.