ASSESSMENT:Bertie Ahern achieved success at the polls, in the North and in Europe but he let the economy drift, writes STEPHEN COLLINS
BERTIE AHERN was a political phenomenon. His unique style made him the most popular politician in the country for the past 20 years, and underpinned his three election wins in a row. More importantly, his approach to politics led to a number of real achievements during his 11 continuous years at the helm.
Bringing the peace process to a successful conclusion was clearly the most important but his successful presidency of the European Union in 2004 also displayed his formidable political talents to the full.
There were also failures, and they too were the product of his approach to politics. One was the economic drift of recent years, with some of the fruits of the boom being squandered as hard decisions on the economy and real reform of the public service were avoided. Then there was the complex story of his personal finances which ultimately forced him into a premature retirement.
In recent weeks, Charles Haughey's famous description of Ahern has been widely quoted: "He's the man. He's the best, the most skilful, the most devious and the most cunning of them all."
It is worth sketching in the background to that remark, which was made in the presence of this reporter, Gerry Barry of RTÉ and Sam Smyth of the Independent, because it was a shrewd insight into Bertie Ahern's political style.
The remark, which was meant as a serious compliment, arose when
Ahern managed to save the first Fianna Fáil-Progressive
Democrat coalition from disintegrating in the autumn of 1991. At
that stage, the
programme for government between the two parties was being
renegotiated after two years in office.
There were factions in both government parties that believed it was time to bring the coalition to an end.
Some people in the PDs, like Michael McDowell, took the view that they should get out of government before they were tarnished by the controversies besetting Haughey. The other side of the coin was that Albert Reynolds, the then minister for finance, who had described the coalition as "a temporary little arrangement", thought the PDs should be told where to get off.
It was a volatile situation but Haughey relied on Ahern, his minister for labour, to bring it all together. During a long night of negotiation, with the deadline for agreement looming the following day, Ahern managed to talk PD negotiator Pat Cox around. The following morning each of them sold the deal to their own sides. The political skill shown by his protege prompted Haughey's now famous description.
IT WAS that ability to find common ground and get seemingly intractable foes to agree that proved to be the hallmark of Ahern's political style. The Belfast Agreement could probably not have been done without his crafty political skills, founded on patience and compromise. Equally important, his persistence in sticking with the process as it hit one hitch after another was vital in eventually bringing about a stable devolved government in Northern Ireland.
His skill in making coalition work underpinned his years in power. His predecessor, Albert Reynolds, had his term of office foreshortened because of rows with his coalition partners, first the PDs and then with the Labour Party. Ahern learned the lesson well and went out of his way to conciliate his coalition partners and even the Independents who supported him.
The same skills were crucial in getting one social partnership deal after another. In fact, the lessons he learned as minister for labour in bringing the social partners together in the years after 1987 proved invaluable when it came to the art of putting coalitions together and, equally importantly, getting them to stay together.
To get into government, he first had to win elections or at
least ensure that Fianna Fáil was
in pole position. He managed to do that three times in a row
while actually increasing his party's share of the vote on each
occasion. That he was able to pull off the third victory last May
while the controversy over his personal finances continued to rage
was a stunning achievement.
For at least the first half of the campaign, it seemed that Fianna Fáil was going to lose the election as the unremitting focus of media attention was on Ahern's finances and the range of unanswered questions that remained. At the launch of the Fianna Fáil manifesto, the Taoiseach calmly coped with an aggressive cross-examination by journalist Vincent Browne and the tide began to turn.
The following weekend, he agreed to issue a statement about his finances and the issue gradually faded into the background in the last 10 days of the campaign. The recovery by Fianna Fáil in the last few days of the campaign resulted in the party actually increasing its vote by comparison with the previous election.
Even though it lost three seats, the party was in an unassailable position to go back into Government for the third successive term.
Looking back, it is fair to say that his first government from 1997 to 2002 was Ahern's most successful. Coming into office as the Celtic Tiger era was getting under way, the Fianna Fáil-PD minority government cut taxes and introduced some economic reforms that accelerated the boom and saw a dramatic rise in living standards.
HOWEVER, THE second period in office, from 2002 to 2007, was less innovative and the downside of the partnership model, as manifested in the benchmarking deal for the public service, created a drag on the economy. The reliance on the housing boom to generate growth and taxes paid off in the short term but the long-term consequences are now beginning to be felt.
Ahern's conciliatory style was a hindrance rather than a help during this period as urgently required decisions to improve competitiveness and implement genuine public service reform were deferred for fear of alienating powerful interests. As well as being a conciliator in terms of coalition parties in government and between the social partners, Ahern brought his skills to bear on his own party.
Fianna Fáil had been riven by internal dissent from 1966 until Ahern took over at the end of 1994. Immediately on succeeding Reynolds, Ahern pledged to end factionalism within Fianna Fáil and he was as good as his word.
While he came from the Haughey wing of Fianna Fáil, he
appointed close associates of Reynolds like Charlie McCreevy and
Brian Cowen to senior front-bench posts alongside leading members
of the Haughey faction like Micheál Martin and Dermot Ahern.
The axe was buried and Fianna Fáil has been a
notably unified party for the past 13 years. Cowen starts off
with the great advantage of not having to deal with any legacy of
internal bitterness.
Ahern's decision to anoint Cowen as his successor after last year's election was a reflection of just how little the old factions that had developed in the Haughey era had ceased to be a factor in internal party politics.
One feature of Ahern's success as a politician that has come back to haunt him is the strong and well-financed local power base in Dublin Central. Run by a group that became known as "the Drumcondra Mafia" - although most of them are not from Drumcondra in the first place, as Ahern pointed out at the weekend - this group of people put together a very well-funded political machine on which Ahern's local power was based.
As far back as the 1980s, an annual fund-raising dinner in the Royal Hospital in Kilmainham was organised by his supporters to generate funds for the constituency. Later a house, St Luke's, was purchased and Ahern has used it as his political base ever since for national as well as local issues.
However, this formidable local operation, on which his constituency power was based and which helped him become one of the biggest vote-getters in the country, in the end proved to be the source of his downfall.
The unorthodox personal financial arrangements uncovered by the Mahon tribunal had their roots in the manner the constituency organisation was run. The real tragedy for Bertie Ahern is that, despite his service to the country, the question marks over his personal finances left him with no option but to call it a day sooner than planned.
Stephen Collins is Political Editor of The Irish Times