SHE HAD been consistently underestimated, this slowburning constitutional lawyer with feminist leanings, wanted to reshape society by breaking down barriers and eliminating old sources of division and discrimination.
People power has been the secret of her success. In six years, "Mrs Robinson built a power base; in the hearts of Irish people that traditional politicians could only envy and successive governments cleared to challenge. She was untouchable; fire proofed by the adulation of citizens who felt pride in their Irishness when they looked at her.
It wasn't always so. As a university senator, she was an effective speaker, deeply committed to the creation of a modern, inclusive Ireland, but aloof from the electorate. And when she ran as a Labour Party candidate in a Dublin West by election, her hopes were buried by graffiti which read: "If you want a knacker for a neighbour, vote Labour.
She left the Labour Party because of the Anglo/Irish Agreement and her belief that unionists had been excluded from the process. But when Dick Spring approached her some years later and asked her to accept the Labour Party nomination for the Presidency, she accepted.
It was a turning point. For 16 years the position of President had been filled without reference to the people. Following the death of Erskine Childers in 1974, he was replaced, by agreement by Cearbhall O Dalaigh, who resigned in protest against his treatment by a coalition government. His successor, again by agreement, was Paddy Hillery, who went forward to a second, uncontested term in 1983. The role of President was viewed as being largely symbolic, a near retirement position, with no real political significance.
Mrs Robinson's election campaign tore up the political rule book and was a harbinger of things to come. Six months before polling day, she began an intensive, country wide campaign, concentrating particularly on deprived communities in the poor western counties and on inner city groups. The disadvantaged, the disaffected and the disabled listened to her message of hope and change of a new political and social dawning of a vibrant, effective Presidency, and they gravitated towards her.
Her appeal to the urban middle class, and particularly to women, was so strong that when Fine Gael eventually nominated Austin Currie, he was dead in the water before his campaign got under way. The late Brian Lenihan's campaign was badly damaged by the "tapes controversy", which nearly brought down the government and caused his own dismissal as Tanaiste. And, when the ballot boxes were finally opened, she won by a whisker - a margin of 86,000 votes out of a total of 1.5 million.
Then came the transformation Party politics disappeared. She was the people's President and would represent all the Irish people, from travellers and emigrants to the small, forgotten, rural communities and the disadvantaged in urban areas. She was keeping the promises made during her election tour. "Mna na hEireann" became a rallying cry for women. Lighting a symbolic candle in the window of Aras an Uachtarain, she quoted Yeats to far flung exiles: "I am of Ireland, come dance with me in Ireland." She learned Irish.
IT wasn't politics. Not as we had known it. But the electorate loved it. And the new President promised greater change. It was all deeply unsettling to the political establishment.
Within a year, there were unsourced reports of tensions between the then Taoiseach, Charles Haughey, and Mrs Robinson over funding and foreign travel. She got her money and charted her own path. The incoming Taoiseach, Albert Reynolds, had learned a salutary lesson. Mrs Robinson was untouchable. She had become a political icon, representing all that was new and progressive - and much that was traditional - in modern Ireland.
When she went abroad, Irish people felt proud of her intelligence and erudition. And when she visited the local community halls, still smelling strongly of fresh paint, they took her to their hearts. As a non party President, she reached across the political divide.
She made her mark in Northern Ireland, visiting regularly, before finally helping to thaw the ice for Sinn Fein through a public handshake for Gerry Adams in west Belfast. That public gesture took pressure off John Hume; infuriated the British government and caused some concern in Government, but she was allowed to have her way.
MRS Robinson visited the scene of IRA atrocities in England and in Northern Ireland to sympathise with the bereaved and the local communities. And she worked hard to normalise relations between the peoples of the two islands. A visit to Buckingham Palace and a meeting with Queen Elizabeth in 1993 had political and symbolic implications that went far beyond the bounds of a diplomatic courtesy call. It represented a thawing of relations at Head of State level which had been frozen since the foundation of the State.
Visits to strife torn, famine ridden Rwanda and Somalia lifted her international profile and underpinned her humanitarian credentials. And, for the past two years, it has fuelled speculation that she would leave the Presidency after a single term to join the United Nations in some senior position.
Last year, her name was linked for a time with the position of Secretary General of the UN. And while Mrs Robinson denied having any interest in the position, she received unsolicited support from the United States and a number of European countries.
In announcing her decision not to seek a second term yesterday, Mrs Robinson hinted that she would welcome Government support in canvassing for the position of High Commissioner on Human Rights at the UN which falls vacant next March. In the event of her failing to get that job, the position of United Nations High Commissioner on Refugees also falls vacant next year.
No matter what career Mrs Robinson pursues in the future, she has left a lasting legacy. Her years at Aras an Uachtarain have transformed the character and the public's perception of the Irish Presidency.